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He raised the limp form and forced it through the 
window. (Page 40) Frontispiece 


THE BOY SCOUT 
FIRE FIGHTERS 


BY 

IRVING CRUMP 

)l 

Avthor of “Jack Straw in Mexico,” “Jack 
Straw, Lighthouse Builder,” etc. 


ILLUSTRATED BY 

CHARLES L. WRENN 


PUBLISHED WITH THE APPROVAL OF 

THE BOY SCOUTS OF AMERICA 


NEW YORK 
BARSE & HOPKINS 
PUBLISHERS 


THE BOY SCOUT LIFE SERIES 


FublisKed witK tKe Approval of tHe 


Boy Scouts of America 


12mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Price per volume, 
75 cents, postpaid. 


THE BOY SCOUT FIRE FIGHTERS— Crump 

THE BOY SCOUTS OF THE LIGHTHOUSE TROOP 
— McLane 

THE BOY SCOUT TRAIL BLAZERS— Cheley 

THE BOY SCOUT TREASURE HUNTERS— Ler- 
RIGO 


{Other volumes in preparation) 

BARSE & HOPKINS 


Publishers 


New York 


Copyright, 1917, by 
Barse & Hopkins 


The Boy Scout Fire Fighters 


D 


D 


rv* 


{ 




VAIL -BALLOU COMPANY 
BINQHAMTON AND NEW YORK 



M -2 1917 



CONTENTS 


OHAPTKK page 

I The Motorcycle Fire Brigade .... 9 

II The Firemen’s Tournament 19 

III Boy Scouts to the Rescue 32 

IV When the Circus Came to Town ... 42 

V A Scout Is Resourceful .56 

VI Helping to Make the Movies .... 74 
VII Ethan Allen Comes to Life Again . . 86 

VIII The Prize Contest . 101 

IX Working to Win . 114 

X The Boy from Arizona ...... 128 

XI TfiE Courage of a Coward 141 

XII The Scout Life Guards’ Beach Patrol . 153 

XIII The Day of the Big Race 174 

XIV When the Unexpected Happened . . . 195 

XV A Narrow Escape 212 

XVI Quarry Troop’s Christmas . . . . . 224 



ILLUSTRATIONS 


He raised tlie limp form and forced it through the 
window Frontispiece 




He lunged his great body forward 150 ^ 

His hand closed about the cold wrist of the uncon- 
scious man 191 


With the limp form of Dave Connor between them 
the two scouts started struggling back toward 
the lake 220 



THE BOY SCOUT FIRE 
FIGHTERS 


CHAPTER I 

THB MOTOECYCLE FIKE BEIGADB 

‘ ‘ v T Jiminy, that was some fire for an old 
1"“^ hay barn, wasn’t it, fellows?” exclaimed 
Jiminy Gordon, as he entered the meet- 
ing room at headquarters. His eyes were flashing 
excitement and he was thoroughly out of breath 
from running up the long Otter Creek Hill. “I 
stayed until the last spark was out,” he said, as 
he dropped into a chair beside Bruce Clifford, 
leader of the Owl Patrol of Quarry Troop No. 1. 

“Some fire, is perfectly correct,” said Bruce 
bitterly, “though it needn’t have been anything 
more than an ordinary blaze. I tell you the Wood- 
bridge Fire Department needs a little pep, fel- 
lows.” This last was addressed to the four other 


9 


10 THE BOY SCOUT FIRE FIGHTERS 


occupants of the room, Bud Weir, Romper Ryan, 
Babe Wilson and Nipper Knapp. 

“Right,” said Romper. 

“The way they went about it was a farce,” said 
Bud. 

“Yes, they all had to have their red flannel 
shirts on,” remarked Babe, the fat boy, sarcas- 
tically. 

“Say, did you see ’em scrapping over who 
should carry the fire trumpet?” laughed Romper. 

“Sure, and about six men were giving orders,” 
put in Jiminy, who had caught the spirit of the 
remarks. 

“And no one obeyed any of ’em,” supplemented 
Babe, sarcastic as usual. 

“But the finest exhibition of firemanship was 
when one of the nozzlemen let go of the only hose 
they got on the fire while he hunted through his 
pockets for a paper of tobacco or something else 
just as important,” said Bruce. “Of course the 
other nozzleman couldn’t hold onto the hose alone 
and it twisted out of his hands. The thing acted 
like a big black snake, fellows, and hit Chief 
Blaney a whack in the chest that knocked him 


THE MOTORCYCLE FIRE BRIGADE 11 


sprawling. Then it proceeded to wet down the 
whole fire department before some one captured 
it. It was a scream. Didn’t any of you see it?” 

“I reached there in time to see Tom Hogan try 
to stop it and get a ducking for his trouble,” 
laughed Nipper Knapp. 

“Oh, it is a shame,” continued Bruce; “I know 
it isn’t exactly proper to criticise, but then if 
they’d had a little system about it old Eli Os- 
borne’s bam would still be standing. Now it’s a 
heap of cinders. I tell you any ordinary troop of 
Boy Scouts has more snap than the Woodbridge 
Fire Department. I belie ve^ — By Jove, fellows. 
I’ve an idea! Let’s organize a fire department of 
our own. A motorcycle fire department. I was 
reading in a magazine only the other day how they 
started one over in England somewhere. How 
about it?” 

“Bully — Show’s it done?” demanded Bud Weir, 
leader of the Blue Heron Patrol. 

“Corking idea; let’s get busy,” exclaimed Jim- 
iny Gordon. 

‘ ‘ Great ! Give us the details, ’ ’ shouted Romper. 

Brace wrinkled his brow in deep thought for 


12 THE BOY SCOUT FIEE FIGHTERS 


several moments, then his face lighted up with a 
smile. 

“Look here, fellows,” he said enthusiastically, 
“three of us have motorcycles we got for Christ- 
mas, and Romper here and Ray Martin of the Fly- 
ing Eagles have the machines they built them- 
selves. Then there’s ‘Old Nanc,’ the automobile 
we built last Winter. She’s good enough to carry 
hose and hatchets and a couple of fellows besides. 
We’ve the equipment. What do you say! I’m 
dead sure my dad will let us borrow some fire ex- 
tinguishers from the mill, and he has any amount 
of hose and other things to fit up a first-class 
brigade. We’ll get our equipment together and 
then drill like the dickens. How about it?” 

“And we’ll keep it a secret. Won’t tell a soul 
until we get a chance to spring a surprise on the 
whole town, eh, fellows?” suggested Bud. 

“Let’s spring it at the tournament and conven- 
tion next month. The Champlain Valley Fire- 
men’s Association meets here this year, you know. 
Perhaps we can get first prize in the tournament,” 
added Romper Ryan. 


THE MOTORCYCLE FIRE BRIGADE 13 


“Whoo-o-o-pe ! Great! Let’s get busy,” 
shouted Nipper Knapp, 

“Right- 0 ,” said Bruce. “But first of all let’s 
tell our plan to Assistant Scoutmaster Ford.” 

To he thoroughly familiar with Quarry Troop 
No. 1 you must know that it was composed of 
three patrols in Woodhridge, Vt., and that its 
members had created a reputation for themselves 
through their ability as mechanics and electri- 
cians. Woodhridge has long been noted for its 
electrically operated marble quarries and its 
many machine shops and textile mills, and the 
boys of the town, as a result of their surround- 
ings, were by nature of a mechanical turn. Added 
to this, the Woodhridge Academy w‘as one of the 
first institutions of the country to adopt a manual 
training course as part of its curriculum, and all 
the lads received an early drilling at the lathes 
and forges. 

Bruce Clifford, always the most self-reliant lad 
in town, first suggested that he and his fellows 
establish “a troop of Engineers,” and of course 
his proposal was received with enthusiasm by the 


14 THE BOY SCOUT FIEE FIGHTEES 


Academy boys. Bruce took the plan to bis father, 
Samuel Clifford, and to his father’s friend, Ham- 
ilton Townsend, a well-known consulting engineer 
in Woodbridge. Mr. Townsend was delighted 
with the idea, and quickly consented to become the 
Scoutmaster, while Mr. Clifford, to foster the in- 
terest of the lads along mechanical lines, offered 
them the abandoned machine shop on the top of 
Otter Creek Hill for their headquarters. 

This was a real find for Bruce and his friends, 
for the old place had never been dismantled. 

Mr. Clifford was a builder of electrical stone 
cutting and polishing machines and for a long 
time he had maintained his business in the little 
two-story structure. But four years previous he 
had erected a fine new concrete building just across 
the way, and abandoned the machine shop, intend- 
ing to tear down the building and sell the old 
equipment for junk. 

This made ideal headquarters for a troop that 
desired to specialize in engineering. On the first 
floor were the old hand-forges, bellows, lathes, 
work benches, planing machines, and various other 
appliances. They were all out of date, to be sure, 


THE MOTORCYCLE FIRE BRIGADE 15 


and some slightly rusty, but still quite usable after 
they had been cleaned up. 

On the second floor of the building were two 
rooms, one of which was used for meetings, while 
the other was converted into a wire room for the 
loop telegraph line that the lads had built through 
the town. This loop was connected with an in- 
strument in the bedrooms of every member of the 
troop and the boys could be routed out of bed at 
midnight, if need be, by some one calling on any 
of the keys. A wireless system had also been 
erected on the roof of the building by the wireless 
enthusiasts of the troop and the helix, spark-gap 
and various coils and keys were also set up in the 
wire room. 

Headquarters immediately became popular with 
every member of the troop and always some one 
was to be found pottering about in the machine 
shop, building something that he was particularly 
interested in. Two of the boys, during the long 
Winter evenings, had made more or less service- 
able motorcycles for themselves, and a half dozen 
of the young engineers had even essayed the con- 
struction of an automobile from old parts they 


16 THE BOY SCOUT FIRE FIGHTERS 


were able to get for “a song” at various junk 
shops ; indeed, some serviceable material was 
found in scrap heaps about town. 

How well they succeeded, a wheezing two-cylin- 
der motor car attested. This turn-out was dubbed 
“Old Nanc” by the troop, and though it went far 
better down grade than it did on the level, the 
boys managed to get a great deal of fun out of 
it. And it was not a bad looking machine either 
when it finally received several generous coats of 
red paint and enamel. 

Luckily, Austin Ford, the engineer in charge 
of the hydro-electric plant of the Woodbridge 
Quarry Company, became interested in the “Scout 
Engineers,” and through him the officials of the 
quarry company were persuaded to allow the lads 
to use as much electric current as they required 
without cost. The youngsters quickly built a 
transmission line to the electric station, which 
was located a few miles north of the town on a 
branch of Otter Creek. 

Mr. Ford’s interest in the lads increased to ad- 
miration when he saw the business-like way in 
which they went about building the line, and he 


THE MOTOECYCLE FIEE BEIGADE 17 


even offered them some practical engineering ad- 
vice when they found themselves up against knotty 
problems. This led to a more intimate relation 
with the young Cornell graduate, and in the end 
the boys suggested that he become the Assistant 
Scoutmaster. This office rather pleased him, for 
in reality Austin Ford was little more than a big 
boy in the matter of pleasure. 

He quickly became a master of scout lore and 
at every opportunity he was afield with the lads 
or else in the shop at headquarters working out 
new engineering “stunts” (as he characterized 
them) for the Scouts to undertake. The boys 
never failed to talk over each new undertaking 
with him, as, for instance, the troop’s latest 
scheme, the organization of a motorcycle fire de- 
partment. 

Indeed, on the very evening of the day Eli Os- 
born’s bam was reduced to ashes. Brace, Bud, 
Romper and several others visited Mr. Ford and 
outlined their plans. Of course the Assistant 
Scoutmaster approved of such a very laudable 
idea, but he did admonish the boys against criti- 
cising the present fire fighting force of Wood- 


18 THE BOY SCOUT FIEE FIGHTEES 


bridge, stating that though the men had their pe- 
culiarities the lads should remember that they 
were volunteers, doing their work without receiv- 
ing a cent of pay because they recognized their 
duty to others. 

As to the equipment of the brigade, he left that 
all up to the boys, telling them, however, that 
whenever they had any difficulty they would find 
him ready to help them. He also suggested that 
they visit the hydro-electric plant and take a few 
tools and some old sand buckets which they could 
paint over and use as bucket brigade equipment. 


CHAPTER n 

THE firemen’s TOURNAMENT 

T he two weeks following were mighty busy 
ones for Quarry Troop No. 1. First of 
all it was necessary for Bruce and his com- 
panions to find out exactly what in the matter of 
equipment they had at their disposal. This could 
only be determined by a visit to Mr. Clifford’s 
mill and several other places where they could 
borrow fire fighting apparatus and still not let the 
news of their secret organization leak out. 

Mr. Clifford, when he heard of the plan, was 
particularly delighted and he personally con- 
ducted the boys through the machine shop and 
mill, making numerous suggestions meanwhile. 
First of all he found that he could spare eleven 
small, two-and-one-half gallon chemical extin- 
guishers and still leave enough equipment to com- 
ply with the fire underwriters ’ laws, which call for 
a certain number of extinguishers for each fioor. 
These eleven were enough to provide two for 

19 


20 THE BOY SCOUT FIRE FIGHTERS 


each motorcycle in the brigade and one for the 
automobile. It seemed rather unfortunate to 
Bruce that they could only get one for “Old 
Nanc,” for he had had a mental picture of the red 
automobile with a shining extinguisher on either 
side of the driver’s seat. Indeed, he was so keen 
on this artistic arrangement that he pleaded with 
his father to spare an additional tank. 

“Why, I’ll tell you what you can have to bal- 
ance up ‘Old Nanc,’ ” said his father laughingly, 
when he heard Bruce’s reason for wanting an- 
other extinguisher, “here’s a light oxygen-acety- 
lene tank equipment with a blow torch I’ve been 
using around the mill. I’m going to get a new 
one of larger capacity, and if you polish this up 
it will look mighty business-like, I tell you. 

“These torches are being adopted by the city 
fire departments too. You see they are composed 
of two tanks, one filled with oxygen and the other 
with acetylene gas. These gases both flow through 
the same openiug in the torch and unite before 
they strike the air. If you touch a match to the 
end of the torch, presto, you have a thin blue flame 
so hot that it will cut through the hardest steel. 


THE FIEEMEN’S TOUENAMENT 21 


The flame gives off a heat as high as 6,000 degrees 
Fahrenheit; think of that! It literally burns its 
way through the toughest metal and does the job 
before you can say ‘scat.’ The city fire depart- 
ments use them to burn the hinges off iron doors 
and window shutters in big warehouse fires. Do 
you boys want it? It may come in handy, you 
know.” 

“Want it! You bet we do,” shouted Jiminy 
Gordon eagerly. 

“Just the stuff,” recommended Eomper Eyan, 
who had been inspecting the apparatus, “handy 
and compact. Doesn’t weigh more than a hun- 
dred pounds. Two of us could handle it in fine 
shape. We certainly would like to have it.” 

“All right,” acquiesced Mr. Clifford, “it’s 
yours. ’ ’ 

The good-natured manufacturer also gave the 
boys a set of old fire pails that needed fresh coats 
of paint, and several lengths of old but service- 
able fire hose, not to mention a number of rusty 
fire hatchets, crowbars and pike poles. 

“How about ladders?” said Mr. Clifford as the 
hoys were about to depart. 


22 THE BOY SCOUT FIKE FIGHTERS 


“Gee, we never thought of ’em,” said Bruce, 
surprised at such an omission. Then as he con- 
sidered the capacity of “Old Nanc,” he continued : 
“But if we had them we wouldn’t know how to 
carry them; we — ^you see, we can’t afford to over- 
load the auto or she will never he able to get 
started for a fire.” 

“Ho, ho, that’s right. She’d be a regular tor- 
toise,” said Mr. Clifford. “But why don’t you 
make a couple of scaling ladders? I’ll have the 
top hooks forged for you if you’ll build the lad- 
ders. They’ll be light and serviceable and you 
can work up a mighty spectacular drill with them. ” 

“Great, we’ll do it,” said Bruce. Then he 
added, “perhaps we will have a real fire depart- 
ment after all.” 

“Old Nanc” spent the busiest day of her career 
gathering up the loads of extinguishers, hose and 
other equipment before she was laid up for al- 
teration, and the Scouts for many days thereafter 
found that their spare time was well taken up with 
their work at headquarters. 

From the hour that the Woodbridge Academy 
closed until ten o’clock in the evening they toiled 


THE FIREMEN’S TOURNAMENT 23 


like beavers. Bruce, always a capable manager, 
divided the patrols into working squads and as- 
signed them to the various tasks to be accom- 
plished. Those who were handy with carpenter- 
ing tools he set to work making a new fire patrol 
body for the automobile. Those who excelled at 
the forges he assigned to the task of making brack- 
ets and metal clamps with which to fasten the 
extinguishers onto the motorcycles. Some were 
appointed ladder makers, others were painters, 
and still others were buffers and polishers, who 
shined up the tarnished sides of the tanks and 
took the rust off the axes and pike heads. And 
when they all became active the interior of head- 
quarters was a veritable beehive for busyness. 

The boys did not devote all their time to build- 
ing work, however, for they realized that to win 
honors at the firemen’s tournament, in which they 
meant to compete, they would have to be well 
drilled in every branch of fire fighting. Conse- 
quently every evening, just before dusk, the en- 
tire troop assembled in the field back of headquar- 
ters. 

Scaling ladder drills, first aid work, rescue 


24 THE BOY SCOUT FIEE FIGHTERS 


work, bucket brigade drills, and hose coupling con- 
tests were indulged in until the lads worked with 
the precision and accuracy of trained fire fighters. 
For the sake of unity Bruce had been appointed 
fire chief, having charge of all three patrols. The 
entire squad was under his command and in a very 
few days he had systematized their work to the 
point where there was scarcely a lost motion or a 
false move. 

Indeed, the Scouts drilled with such vigor and 
enthusiasm that inside of an hour they would be 
completely tired out. Then, while they were rest- 
ing, Bruce would put them through a sharp oral 
drill on the rudiments of firemanship as set forth 
in the September number of Boy’s Life until, to 
quote Jiminy Gordon, “They could say it back- 
wards, or upside down, and do it blindfolded.” 

Gradually after weeks of toil the fleet of fire 
fighting motorcycles assumed a business-like ap- 
pearance. And as for “Old Nanc” she, redolent 
with the odors of fresh red paint, loomed above 
them all exactly like a mother hen keeping a watch- 
ful eye on her brood of chicks. 

Each motorcycle was equipped with a fire ex- 


THE FIREMEN’S TOURNAMENT 25 


tinguisher clamped on either side, just back of the 
seat. Directly in the rear of the seat was a small 
red tool box in which hose-coupling wrenches and 
two sets of harness were kept. This harness, de- 
vised by Mr. Ford, was made of canvas in the form 
of a sling to hold the extinguishers in position on 
a Scout’s back. In that way a boy could enter 
a burning building and carry an extinguisher with 
him, still having both hands free to operate the 
extinguisher hose. On top of the tool box was 
strapped a short coil of hose with a small nozzle 
ready to be brought into action when coupled to 
the nearest street hydrant. 

“Old Nanc,” besides carrying an extinguisher 
and the oxygen-acetylene blow torch tank, also con- 
tained the remaining hose, an equipment of axes, 
pike poles and scaling ladders, and provided ac- 
commodations for three Scouts and the driver be- 
sides. 

Until a few days before the tournament the 
Scouts were working on their equipment. Indeed, 
the very last coat of varnish was put onto “Old 
Nanc” the Saturday afternoon preceding the 
tournament day, which fell on Wednesday. All 


26 THE BOY SCOUT FIEE FIGHTEES 

that remained to be done was to deck the machine 
with flags and bunting and she would be ready 
for the parade. In truth, that very morning Bruce 
had gone on a motorcycle trip to St. Cloud City, 
twelve miles south of Woodbridge, to buy the nec- 
essary decorations. 

“By Jove, she looks like a real fire fighter, 
doesn’t she!” said Eomper Eyan, backing off, 
paint brush still in hand, to survey his own handi- 
work on the sides of “Old Nanc.” 

“For downright good looks I think our equip- 
ment has it on anything Woodbridge ever 
experienced,” said Jiminy Gordon enthusiasti- 
cally. 

“Well, we’ll sure create some sensation,” said 
Bud. “This is going to be a complete surprise to 
everybody. Has Bruce heard from Chief Blaney 
yet! He sent him our entry for the tournament 
events last week, you know. I wonder — Here 
he comes now! I heard his siren. That was a 
mighty quick trip to St. Cloud.” 

Bud and several others rushed to the door. 
Coming up the hill at top speed was Bruce, his 
motorcycle fairly flying. When he caught sight 


THE FIREMEN’S TOURNAMENT 27 


of the group in front of the machine shop he be- 
gan to wave a blue paper above his head. 

“Hi, fellows, here’s our reply from Chief 
Blaney,” he shouted as he jumped from his ma- 
chine. “I just got it at the house. Haven’t 
opened it yet. Come on, gather ’round and hear 
what he has to say.” 

With eager fingers he tore off the comer of the 
big envelope and ripped open the top. And as he 
unfolded the letter every Scout pressed closer to 
get a glimpse of its contents. Bruce began to 
read aloud: 

Mr. Bruce Cliff ord^ Chief of the Scout Engineer^ Fire De- 
partment. 

Dear Sir: Your entry blank and fee for the tournament 
events reached me. I am returning your fee herewith for, 
unfortunately, your company cannot take part in the tourna- 
ment. In the first place your organization is only a juvenile 
company, and in the second place it is not an accredited mem- 
ber of the Woodbridge Fire Department. 

The fact that you have not a charter from the town author- 
ities will also prevent your little department from taking an 
active part in fighting fires in this village, for the Champlain 
Valley Volunteer Firemen’s Association has passed a ruling 
preventing any individual not wearing a badge of a recog- 
nized fire department from entering fire lines or participating 
in fire fighting work. These rules are rigidly enforced by my 
department. Very truly yours, 

(Signed) W. T. Blaney, 
Chief Woodbridge F. D. 


28 THE BOY SCOUT FIRE FIGHTERS 


‘'Well, wliat do you think of that!” exclaimed 
Romper disgustedly. 

“And after all our working and planning,” said 
Jiminy bitterly. 

“Oh, we’re only juveniles,” said Bud sarcastic- 
ally, turning away to hide his feelings. 

And as for Bruce, he could hardly believe his 
eyes. He re-read the letter and when he finished 
he slowly tore it into little scraps and tossed them 
to the ground. 

“Well, fellows,” he said with a grim smile, “I 
fancy ‘Old Nanc’ won’t need the flags and bunting 
I ordered to-day. And I guess our little fire de- 
partment sort of busts up before it gets started. 
If old Blaney is such a stickler for regulations 
they’ll never let us fight any fires in this town. 
Tough luck, isn’t it?” 

Tournament day had been declared a holiday 
in Woodbridge. Stores and factories were closed 
and the village decorated from stable to Town 
Hall with colored streamers, flags and bunting. 
Since early morning fire companies had been ar- 
riving in town headed by bands and drum corps 


THE FIREMEN’S TOURNAMENT 29 


until the place was crowded with uniformed figures 
from every section of Vermont. 

But in spite of all this gaiety Bruce Clifford and 
the Boy Scout Engineers were dispirited. Indeed, 
for the past week they had been very unhappy 
over the turn of affairs. They tried their hardest 
to brace up and be good sports, but their disap- 
pointment was greater than they had expected. 
On tournament day they wandered about with a 
cheerless air, watching the various companies file 
into the side streets to await the formation of the 
parade that would be conducted up Webster Ave- 
nue to the tournament grounds. 

They were not so downcast, however, as to ig- 
nore the fact that here was an excellent oppor- 
tunity to view a number of fire fighting machines 
of all varieties. Indeed, they inspected the equip- 
ment of every out-of-town company they ran 
across, and in the course of the morning had be- 
come partly familiar with everything, from an old- 
fashioned gooseneck hand, engine to the latest type 
of hand-drawn chemical engine, the pride of the 
company from Middlebury. This last appliance 


30 THE BOY SCOUT FIEE FIGHTEES 


was an excellent piece of work and Bruce and his 
friends realized that even with her new paint and 
shining brass, “Old Nanc” could not compare in 
general appearance with this costly equipment. 

Promptly at half-past ten the automobile in 
which was seated the Mayor, Fire Chief Blaney 
and several other dignitaries, swung into Webster 
avenue. This was followed by the Woodbridge 
band and the parade to the tournament grounds 
was under way. The Boy Scout Engineers re- 
viewed the procession from the curb, and when it 
had passed they hurried by way of a short cut 
across the fields to the tournament grounds, reach- 
ing there just as the Mayor ’s car turned in at the 
big gate. 

A makeshift two-story frame building had been 
constructed in the very center of the enclosure, 
and the village authorities had erected a dozen 
temporary hydrants in a half circle about the front 
of the building. The plan was to conduct the con- 
tests on the level stretch of turf before the grand- 
stand, and as a finale set fire to the wooden struc- 
ture and have a real demonstration of fire fighting. 

The procession of visiting companies made a 


THE FIREMEN’S TOURNAMENT 31 


circle of the grounds after entering the gate while 
the Mayor reviewed them from his automobile. 
Then after the various engines and hose carts had 
been parked at the far end of the field the Mayor 
prepared formally to open the ceremonies with a 
speech of welcome. But he had hardly uttered 
two sentences when Bruce, for some unknown rea- 
son turned and looked down Webster avenue to- 
wards the town. In the distance he saw a great 
cloud of black smoke mounting skyward above the 
roofs. He grasped Bud Weir’s arm and shouted: 

“Look! Quick! Afire!” 

And as if to verify his words the far-off clang 
of the village fire bell sounded. 

Instantly the tournament grounds were in a tur- 
moil. Every one raised a cry of fire ! In a twinkle 
the grandstand was empty, but before the crowd 
could reach Webster avenue the companies had 
begun to leave the enclosure. With a rattle and 
a clang one engine after another swung into the 
broad avenue. Then with the old hand equip- 
ment of the Woodbridge vamps in the van the 
whole aggregation hurled itself down the street 
toward the village. 


CHAPTER III 


BOY SCOUTS TO THE RESCUE 

B ruce Clifford and the other members 
of Quarry Troop No. 1, waited only to de- 
termine the location of the column of 
smoke that now extended clear across the sky, 
then, selecting the short cut across the field by 
which they had come, they hurried pellmell toward 
the scene of trouble. 

“It’s down in the factories!” panted Romper 
as he ran. 

“Yes, I think it’s Mayor Worthington’s woolen 
mills,” shouted Bud. 

“By Jove, I guess you’re right,” yelled Bruce, 
as they turned into Willow Street and saw smoke 
pouring from the windows of the big brick build- 
ing at the far end of the street. 

It was the worst fire that Woodbridge had ex- 
perienced in years. By the time the firemen 
reached the scene the whole west end of the build- 


32 


BOY SCOUTS TO THE KESCUE 33 


ing was enveloped in flames and a section of tlie 
slate roof had already caved in. From every win- 
dow long tongues of red flames darted out like 
hideous serpents’ tongues. Great sparks shot 
skyward as sections of the west wall crumbled and 
fell into the red hot caldron that had once been 
the building’s interior, and the heat was so in- 
tense that windows in the factory building across 
the street cracked and crumbled. 

It was a fortunate thing for Woodbridge that 
there was a score of visiting fire companies in 
town, or else the whole south section of the village 
would have been wiped out. Chief Blaney, almost 
beside himself with anxiety, implored the visiting 
chiefs for their assistance. And assist him they 
did. Every company got its equipment into action 
and lines of hose were strung in some cases nearly 
half a mile. There were at least a dozen hand 
engines and two steamers on the banks of Ot- 
ter Creek supplying lines to the fire, not to men- 
tion the hundreds of feet of hose that were coupled 
to the village hydrant system in every direction. 

But all that the willing vamps could do seemed 
to no avail. The fire demon was rampant. He 


34 THE BOY SCOUT FIRE FIGHTERS 


roared full cry through the long brick building, 
consuming everything in his path. Section after 
section of roof sagged, then fell with a crash and 
a roar into the flames, sending aloft a shower of 
crackling sparks. 

“Thank heavens, this was a holiday. There’s 
no one in the building,” Bruce heard Chief Blaney 
cry as he hurried past in company with the fore- 
man of a visiting company. 

But the rubber-coated Are fighter had hardly ut- 
tered the words when a shout went up from the 
crowd at the east end of the building, where the 
firm ’s office was located. Men with blanched faces 
and trembling hands were pointing towards the 
big iron barred window that marked the counting 
room. 

“0-o-h! It’s old Uriah Watkins!” shrieked 
Blaney. 

Bruce looked and turned sick at the sight. 
There, his wrinkled old face pressing against the 
bars, was the aged bookkeeper of the woolen mills. 
One hand was extended between the iron grating 
in frantic appeal. The other clutched the pre- 


BOY SCOUTS TO THE EESOUE 35 


cious ledgers that the old man had rashly rushed 
into the building to rescue. His ashen face was 
set with a horrible expression, and his eyes stood 
out with terror. Bruce saw his lips move, but 
could not hear his feeble voice above the roar of 
the flames. 

For a moment the scout stood panic stricken. 
Then suddenly his lips pressed together and his 
face took on a determined look. In a flash he 
turned to Bud and gave a few brief orders. Then, 
elbowing their way through the jam and press 
about them, the youngsters disappeared and left 
Bruce there alone. 

In the meantime a score of vamps had been sum- 
moned by Chief Blaney to rescue the aged book- 
keeper. They attacked the heavy bars on the win- 
dow with sledges and axes, but with no success. 
They tried to pry away the bricks with crowbars, 
but this, too, failed, and it was quite apparent to 
all that if Uriah Watkins was to be saved it could 
be accomplished only by the slow and laborious 
task of sawing through the bars. Could this be 
done? Had they the time to accomplish the task? 


36 THE BOY SCOUT FIRE FIGHTERS 


Already a nearby section of the roof had caved in ! 
How long would it be before the flames reached 
the office and burned the old man alive? 

At this point the figure of a boy in Scout uni- 
form broke through the fire lines and rushed up 
to the side of Chief Blaney. Standing at atten- 
tion, Bruce saluted in regulation Boy Scout fash- 
ion and asked briefly : 

“Chief, can the Boy Scout Engineers take a 
hand in this? I’ll have the bars cut in two min- 
utes.” 

“You will what — ! Why — !” 

“Yes, yes, we can do it; I’ve sent for our fire 
department — ^here come the Scouts now ! ’ ’ 

The shriek of sirens was heard above the din 
about the factory building and the great crowd be- 
held seven motorcycles tearing down the hill at 
top speed. And just behind them bowled “Old 
Nanc” at her best. 

“Have I your permission to take a hand?” de- 
manded Bruce. 

“Yes! yes! for goodness’ sake do anything you 
can to free him!” cried the chief. 

The line of motorcycles stopped and hose lines 


BOY SCOUTS TO THE EESCUE 37 

were quickly strung. But the red automobile 
rumbled on, to come to a halt within ten yards of 
the building. Already two scouts were unlimber- 
ing the oxyhydrogen tanks and blow pipe equip- 
ment. Bruce rushed forward to aid them, while 
Chief Blaney looked on quite puzzled for the mo- 
ment. 

Working fast, but with the utmost coolness, 
Bruce donned a pair of asbestos gloves that came 
with the equipment and attached the blow pipe. 
Komper turned on the gases, while the young 
leader produced a match and ignited the torch. 
Instantly a tiny blue flame shot out that hissed 
and sputtered in a threatening manner. 

As he advanced toward the window Bruce saw 
that the old bookkeeper had disappeared. He 
knew from this that there was no time to be lost, 
for the man had probably fainted and would soon 
be overcome with smoke. Hastily he shot the 
blue flame at the base of the first bar. There was 
a hiss and a shower of sparks as the flame met the 
cold metal. Bruce pressed the blow pipe closer, 
while he watched with anxious eye the progress 
of the flame. 


38 THE BOY SCOUT FIRE FIGHTERS 


The bar grew red, then gold, then white. The 
heat was terrific. The bar began to melt, slowly 
first, then faster, nntil the blue flame ate com- 
pletely through. Another was attacked, and still 
another, until the scout had cut a hole in the iron 
grating large enough for a man to pass through. 

Shouting to Romper to turn off the gas, he 
dropped the blow pipe, and plunging a handker- 
chief in a fire pail that stood near by, he tied the 
cloth over his nose and mouth. Then he hoisted 
himself through the window and disappeared. 

Inside the smoke was thick and black, but Bruce 
could see flames dart through at the far end of 
the room, and he knew that in a few moments 
more the place would be seething. 

He groped vainly about for the old bookkeeper. 
Where was he? He had dropped under the win- 
dow a moment ago. Had he tried to crawl to the 
door? What had happened? 

The smoke was so thick that even the moist 
handkerchief was of no avail. Bruce began to 
strangle. Then suddenly he remembered the in- 
structions in his Handbook. The air was purest 
near the floor! 


BOY SCOUTS TO THE EESCUE 39 


He dropped to his hands and knees, and with 
his face to the boards he began to crawl about, 
blindly groping for the body of the old bookkeeper. 
His fingers clutched something. He drew the ob- 
ject toward him and peered at it through the 
smoke. It was Uriah Watkins doubled in a ball, 
and though unconscious and almost suffocated, 
the faithful old man still clasped his precious 
ledgers. 

Bruce knew that unless the man reached the 
open air immediately he would perish. Also he 
knew that if they were not both clear of the build- 
ing in a few minutes they would be food for the 
flames which were even then thrusting spiteful 
tongues under the door at the other end of the 
room. 

Here again the instructions of the Handbook 
stood the scout in good stead. He knew that it 
would be next to suicide to stand up and try to 
carry the prostrated form to the window. The 
smoke was so thick even down there near the 
floor that he was gasping and choking. 

He twisted his hand into the old man’s collar 
and began to crawl, face to the floor, back toward 


40 THE BOY SCOUT FIRE FIGHTERS 


the gray space that raarked the window through 
the smoke, hauling Uriah after him. Foot by 
foot he dragged his burden. In spite of the hand- 
kerchief the smoke was getting into his lungs. 
His chest pained him dreadfully. Oh, what 
wouldn’t he give for a single breath of pure, fresh 
air ! The eight or ten feet to the side wall seemed 
like eight or ten miles. Would he never reach 
there ! 

Finally his hand struck the wall and he stood 
erect. The draught caused by the open window 
was drawing thick smoke out of the building into 
the air. Bruce knew he could not stand in that 
current of gases long. Pulling Uriah Watkins 
forward, he raised the limp form and forced it 
through the window ahead of him. Willing hands 
seized the old bookkeeper and lifted him to safety. 

Then, dizzy and sick, Bruce clutched at the ledge 
and scrambled up. But a dreadful nausea seized 
him as he knelt on the window sill. His head 
whirled. He lost his balance. He knew he was 
falling backward into the burning building, but he 
was powerless to save himself. He gave a stifled 
cry of terror, and in answer the loud voice of Chief 


BOY SCOUTS TO THE EESCUE 41 


Blaney boomed in his ear and strong arms en- 
circled his waist. Then everything grew black. 

The Boy Scout Engineers never forgot the 
shout that went up when Chief Blaney carried the 
unconscious form of Bruce to safety. They were 
mighty proud of their leader. But they were 
prouder still when, a week later, Bruce was sum- 
moned into the presence of Mayor Worthington 
and Chief Blaney and presented with a parchment 
charter which officially informed him that the fire 
company of Quarry Troop had been officially made 
a member of the Woodbridge Fire Department, to 
be known thereafter as Chemical Company No. 1, 
with Brewster W. Clifford as the Chief. 


CHAPTEE IV 


WHEN THE CIRCUS CAME TO TOWN 


T welve Scouts, nearly half of Quarry 
Troop No. 1, now popularly known as the 
Boy Scout Engineers, were gathered in the 
meeting room at headquarters. In fact, they had 
been literally driven there when the Woodbridge 
Academy let out at half past two on Friday after- 
noon. You see, it was raining so hard that there 
was no other place to go. But, then, the old ma- 
chine shop was the best place in the world for the 
boys, rain or shine, so that didn’t make much dif- 
ference. What reaUy did matter was the monot- 
ony of it all. For five days now the region round 
about Woodbridge had been literally deluged with 
a spring downpour. Otter Creek had swollen to 
twice its normal size, springs were gushing from 
most unheard-of places and rivulets were racing 
down hillsides that usually were, to quote Nipper 
Knapp, “dry as a smoked herring.” 






42 


THE CIRCUS CAME TO TOWN 43 


“By George, I do wish this rain would let up. 
What we want is a chance to get out of doors a 
bit. I haven’t stretched my legs in a week,” said 
Romper Ryan glumly, as he gazed out of the big 
front window. 

“Well,” said fat Babe Wilson with his usual 
sarcasm, “if it don’t dry up soon the whole blamed 
world is liable to shrink.” Then, as an after 
thought, he added, “That might bring St. Cloud 
City so near Woodbridge that we could at least 
see the circus parade.” 

“Aw-w, what’er you bringing up that circus 
subject for again,” said Jiminy Gordon, who 
didn’t like to be reminded of the pleasure he had 
decided to forego. 

“Yes,” chorused two others who were equally 
reluctant about facing the sacrifice they had voted 
themselves; “forget about that blooming circus.” 

“Say, you fellows needn’t hop on me just be- 
cause I want to have a little fun with you,” pro- 
tested Babe. “I’m as good a sport as any of you. 
Don’t you suppose I agreed when you voted not to 
go to the circus. I know it would be foolish to 


44 THE BOY SCOUT FIRE FIGHTERS 


spend most of the thirty dollars in the troop’s 
treasury for a day’s outing. You needn’t talk, 
Jiminy Gordon; you were the first one to suggest 
the idea last week when you saw the man posting 
the hills.” 

“Yes, I know I was,” said Jiminy, somewhat 
embarrassed, “but I said it without thinking. 
When we got to discussing it last night I saw how 
ridiculous it was. By Jiminy, I’d rather see the 
money go toward a new camping outfit, or the 
lumber for the troop’s power boat. I wouldn’t 
spend that thirty dollars to see three circuses, I 
wouldn’t.” 

Judging from the conversation, the circus ques- 
tion referred to had died a hard death. To tell 
the truth, its demise had really been quite painful 
so far as most of the boys were concerned, for all I 
of them had rather liked the idea of being able to | 
enjoy “the World’s Mightiest, Most Magnificent I 
Combination of Clever Animals and Human Skill t 
and Daring,” etc., which was hooked to show in ; 
St. Cloud City a few days hence. 

For a week the temptation to spend the troop’s 
thirty dollars had haunted the lads day and night. 


THE CIECUS CAME TO TOWN 45 


until finally with a great effort they had laid the 
ghost by a unanimous vote that the money must 
not be spent on the profitless amusement. It 
really was a sacrifice, for every Scout had set his 
heart on a hike to St. Cloud and a day crowded full 
of gaiety and glitter, not to mention a stomach 
crowded fuller with peanuts, popcorn and lemon- 
ade. 

“Fellows, I am just as much disappointed as 
the rest,” said Bruce Clifford, leader of the Owl 
patrol, “but I think we decided wisely last night. 
We can all do without going to the circus, even if 
it is the biggest one that has visited this neck of 
the woods in years. The possibility of a new set 
of tents or the lumber for a motorboat appeals to 
me more than blowing the money in on a show; 
that is, it does when I stop and think soberly 
about it.” 

“E.ight-o!” said Eomper. 

“That’s what I call common sense,” asserted 
Nipper Knapp. 

“Just the way we all should look at it,” insisted 
Bud Weir, leader of the Blue Heron patrol. 

“And if we were to — sh! Listen, fellows! 


46 THE BOY SCOUT FIEE FIGHTERS 


Some one’s calling!” In an instant everybody 
was silent. 

Bruce inclined his head toward the wire room 
at the other end of the building where the head- 
quarters’ telegraph key and the instruments con- 
nected with the wireless aerials on the roof were 
located. Out of the doorway seemed to tumble a 
confusion of dots and dashes quite unintelligible 
to any one not familiar with the Morse Inter- 
national Code. 


“Heaquarters, Ford calling,” read Bruce. 
“Fellows, Mr. Ford is trying to raise us. Won- 
der what he wants ! ” 

He hurried into the wire room with the rest at ■ 
his heels, and taking the low operator’s chair \ 
opened the key and answered the call. Then he “ 
closed it again and waited. The boys were all at- 
tention, for most of them were second-class scouts 
and could “read” Morse well. 

“Mayor — Worthington — just — ’phoned — 
me, ’ ’ clicked the instrument. ‘ ‘ W ants — to — see 
— Scouts — at — Town — Hall — at — four — I 


THE CIRCUS CAME TO TOWN 47 


— would — like — to — have — you — go. — Ford 

— Asst — S’ct — M’s’Ur — 3:10 — p — m.” 

‘ ‘ All — right — Shall — we — wear — uniforms 

— Bruce — L’d’r — Owl — P’t’r’l — 3 :12 — p — 
m,” Bruce flashed back over the wire. 

“Yes — careful — don’t — get — too — wet — 
Gr’d — by — Ford — 3 :14 — p — m,” came the 
answer. 

“Cracky! Something interesting! Wonder 
what’s up!” said Bruce excitedly, as he began 
calling on the loop telegraph wire that was con- 
nected to an instrument in every Scout’s home. 

The three patrols of Quarry Troop stood at at- 
tention in the broad corridor of the Woodbridge 
Town Hall, awaiting the coming of Mayor Worth- 
ington. Their campaign hats were water-soaked, 
and rain dripped from the edge of their slickers 
and gathered in little pools about their feet. They 
must have been uncomfortable. But if they were, 
they gave no signs of it. All their attention was 
riveted on the doors that led the way into the 
Mayor’s private office. 

Presently these doors swung open, and the tall, 
broad-shouldered figure of the town’s chief ex- 


48 THE BOY SCOUT FIRE FIGHTERS 


ecutive strode fortli, followed by his secretary and 
Timothy Cockran, the Commissioner of Streets 
and Highways. Every back stiffened and every 
hand went up in salute as these men advanced and 
took their position in front of Bruce, the recog- 
nized spokesman of the troop. The Mayor ac- 
knowledged the salute in quite the proper manner, 
as did the others; then, clearing his throat, he 
spoke. 

“Scouts, I have asked you here because you can 
be of service to Woodbridge. The town needs 
you. Are you willing to do a good turn for the 
welfare of us all?” 

“We’re ready for anything, sir. We try to do 
a good turn daily, rain or shine,” said Bruce, once 
more saluting. 

And his answer was echoed by the score or more 
of brown-clad youths ranged in line beside him. 

“Thank you, Scouts,” said Mr. Worthington, 
crisply. “Now to business. The rains of the last 
few days have raised havoc in this end of Cham- 
plain Valley. So much water has fallen that the 
high roads leading north and south on either side 
of the valley have been made dangerous by wash- 


THE CIRCUS CAME TO TOWN 49 


outs and landslides. In several places the banks 
have slipped down from above, but the most dan- 
gerous sections are those where the roads have 
been washed away almost entirely. Vehicles trav- 
eling at night are very apt to have serious upsets 
and the life and limb of the occupants are endan- 
gered, in spite of the fact that we have marked 
the washouts with red lanterns hung on short 
posts. 

“What I would like to have you boys do is to 
organize a road patrol to keep a careful watch 
over these red lamps and see that they are all 
lighted between the hours of nightfall and mid- 
night at least. After twelve o’clock there is 
hardly enough traffic to make the patrolling worth 
while. The first patrol can light the lamps at a 
given hour and thereafter at certain intervals 
Scout patrols can visit each lamp and see that it 
is in good working order. How would you like 
the job, boys?” 

“Fine!” shouted some. 

“Just the kind of work we like,” cried others. 

‘ ‘ All right, ’ ’ said the Mayor, shortly. ‘ ‘ Scouts, 
you are hereby appointed Guardians of the High- 


50 THE BOY SCOUT FIEE FIGHTEES 

ways by order of the Mayor and the Commissioner 
of Streets and Highways. Each morning at half 
past eight one of your number will be expected to 
make a report at the Town Hall of the night’s 
work. 

“The Commissioner here has a map of these 
thoroughfares showing each washout and just 
where each lamp is located. You can organize 
your patrols this afternoon and start to-night. I 
think the storm will be somewhat abated by that 
time. It is letting up a little now. Good-day and 
good luck.” 

Though the rain had decreased considerably 
the Scouts lost little time in getting from the Town 
Hall to Scout headquarters, where the details of 
organizing the road patrols were worked out. It 
required the rest of the afternoon to do this, and 
the dinner hour arrived almost before the boys 
were aware of the time. 

“Say, fellows, this is going to be fine,” said 
Bud Weir. Then, glancing out of the window, he 
exclaimed: “By Jove, the storm’s nearly over; 
the clouds are breaking out there beyond the 
mountains. This will be a fine night for — 


THE CIECUS CAME TO TOWN 51 


Cracky, fellows, I almost forgot ; the circus comes 
through town to-night. It will come down the 
valley from Collinsville and take the north road 
to St. Cloud.” 

“By George, you’re right,” exclaimed Bruce. 
“Say, fellows, that makes our work doubly im- 
portant. These heavy circus vans may get into 
trouble if all the lamps aren’t in good order. You 
fellows be sure and report for duty, will you!” 

“Don’t worry; there’ll be enough of us to patrol 
to-night. I guess we’re all going to stay up and 
see the circus go through town, if it isn’t raining, 
aren’t we, fellows?” asked Bud. And from the 
chorus of affirmatives it was evident that few of 
the troop would be abed when the “World’s 
Mightiest, Most Magnificent Combination of 
Clever Animals and Human Skill and Daring” 
rumbled through town. 

By seven o’clock the rain had stopped entirely 
and, when the lamp-lighting patrols started out 
in the gloaming, the storm clouds were fast dis- 
appearing in the southwest, their edges splashed 
with the gold and vermilion fire of the setting sun. 

Indeed, by the time the second patrol had re- 


52 THE BOY SCOUT FIEE FIGHTEES 


ported back at headquarters and the third group 
of night watchers had started out, a big yellow 
moon had appeared and the stars were twinkling 
merrily up above. 

After the last patrol had been gone an hour the 
Scouts who, when their duties were finished, had 
gathered in headquarters, moved on to the top of 
Otter Creek hill. They had decided that this 
would be the best place to watch the coming of the 
circus cavalcade. 

The valley presented a queer appearance at 
that hour. Here and there were red lights stand- 
ing out against the darkness, while from various 
points along the highway came the glow of tiny 
battery lamps as the Scouts signaled to each other. 

“They look like a lot of fireflies,” said Bruce, 
after he had watched the series of dots and dashes 
that the boys were flashing back and forth. 

“Yes,” said Bud, “just like mighty big fli — . 
Hi, fellows, here comes the circus! See ’em — 
that string of lights coming down Willow Street — 
hear that rumble of the wagons?” 

“Sure enough!” exclaimed Bruce, who was as 
enthusiastic as the rest. 


THE CIRCUS CAME TO TOWN 53 


Up the long hill, in view of the group of wide- 
eyed and thoroughly interested boys, came the 
phantom-like caravan. A string of swinging lan- 
terns fastened to the center pole of each wagon 
marked its course. 

First in line were the grumbling and rumbling 
red and blue animal vans, followed by two rattling 
canvas wagons. Then a troop of little black and 
white ponies appeared hitched in fours to light 
gilt and red vehicles that held all sorts of odds 
and ends. In the rear of the ponies followed the 
camels ; great, long-legged creatures that grunted 
at every stride as if they were indignant at being 
kept up so late. Gaudy band wagons, the cook’s 
outfit and a heterogeneous assortment of vehicles 
came next, all of them moving slowly up the hill 
while the drivers dozed in their seats. 

“Say, isn’t it great?” cried Romper Ryan as he 
took in every little detail. 

“You bet it is!” returned Babe Wilson, breath- 
lessly. “I wonder where the elephants are. Oh, 
here they come!” 

The clank of chains could be heard above the 
grumble of the wagons, and a moment later five 


54 THE BOY SCOUT EIRE FIGHTERS 


huge elephants appeared out of the darkness. 
They lumbered along sleepily, their massive heads 
and long trunks swaying from side to side at every 
stride. The forelegs of each beast were chained 
together with stout links of iron, but there was 
littl'^ ^ed of fetters, for the animals were appar- 
fc*ifiy so docile that the idea of running away 
seemed farthest from their minds. The leader 
of the drove was, of course, the largest and ap- 
parently the meekest, for as he scuffled by the 
Scouts the boys saw that he walked with his tiny 
eyes closed exactly as if he were asleep. 

A string of a dozen red vans followed the ele- 
phants, and at the very rear of the line was the 
big steam calliope. It was muffled and silent now, 
but its driver was snoring lustily as if to keep its 
reputation. 

“Gee, but that was worth staying up to see,” 
said Ray Martin, the first to find his tongue, after 
the cavalcade had passed on down the valley. 

“You bet it was,” said Bruce. “Jove, I’m al- 
most sorry we decided — Say! Look! Some- 
thing has happened! See the lights down there 
by the old quarry hole? The circus has stopped! 


THE CIECUS CAME TO TOWN 55 


Look, there are some signals! It’s the patrol! 
Can you read them?” 

“ ‘We — need — help. — Elephant — in — in — ’ 
What the dickens is he talking about? I couldn’t 
get that last, could you, Bruce?” asked Bud Weir. 

“Yes; he said that an elephant is in the^puarry 
hole. By George, one of those big beasts ^^vs 
fallen down into Tollen’s old quarry. There was 
a washout down there. Come on, fellows!” 

And the Scouts started at top speed down the 
North Valley road toward the scene of trouble. 


CHAPTER V 


A SCX>XJT IS KESOXJBCEFTJIi 

B edlam reigned at the quarry hole. A 
score of frantic circus men were shouting 
orders at each other, lanterns were bob- 
bing about among the wagons, and every one was 
beside himself with excitement. One little gray- 
haired man seemed almost distraught over the 
situation. He was storming up and down the 
road, alternately roaring commands and deliver- 
ing tirades against everything in general. It 
was quite evident that he was the manager of the 
outfit. 

“Now we’re in a fine mess,” he thundered as 
he strode to the edge of the quarry and peered 
down into the darkness. “It’s so dogon dark 
down there we can’t even see th’ brute. How’ll 
we ever get him out ? That ’s what I want to know. 
Hang the man who’s responsible for this mess! 
Gol-ding t’ — wush — phew.” 


66 


A SCOUT IS EESOUECEFUL 


57 


His soliloquy on the brink of the quarry hole 
ended abruptly when with a snort the elephant 
shot a trunk full of water out of the darkness, 
bowling the little man over and drenching every- 
thing and everybody. 

“Kill t’ beast! Kill him, Gol — ding his hide!” 
screamed the dripping manager as he picked him- 
self up out of the mud. But he was such a com- 
ical figure that every one shouted with laughter. 

To Bruce and the Scouts the whole situation 
was extremely humorous. Evidently the lead ele- 
phant had wandered into the washout and lost his 
footing. The next thing he knew he had slid with 
a big splash into the quarry hole. And then, hav- 
ing a fondness for water and seeing no way to 
climb up the twenty-foot wall of rocks, he had 
decided to stay there and have a thoroughly good 
time. 

But Bruce realized that they could not indulge 
their humor long, for as guardians of the road it 
was their duty to give all the assistance they 
could. Hastily the patrol leader made an inspec- 
tion of the pit by the light of his pocket flash. 
He remembered a derrick on one side of the cut. 


58 THE BOY SCOUT FIRE FIGHTERS 


and he hastened to look that over, for already he 
was beginning to form plans for getting the beast 
out of trouble. 

He noted with satisfaction that the derrick had 
been only partly dismantled and that the rusty 
steel cable was coiled up in a pile beside the heavy 
upright. Then he returned to the roadside and 
approached the agitated little manager. 

“We are the Guardians of the Highways for 
Woodbridge, sir,” he said, “and we would — ” 

“You are the what!” roared the manager. 

“The Guardians of the Highways and — ” 

“Well, why in tarnation didn’t yuh guard ’em 
then? I — I — I — ” 

Bruce interrupted the sputtering manager by 
pointing to the red light. 

“ There ’s our light. We did our part. It must 
have been your fault. But no matter; we’ll help 
you get the animal out of the quarry if you’ll let 
us.” 

“How’ll yuh do it? Haven’t got a thing in my 
outfit t’ pull him out with.” 

“Oh, we’ll do it all right,” said Bruce. Then 
briefly he outlined his plan to the skeptical circus 


A SCOUT IS RESOURCEFUL 


59 


manager. And when he had finished talking the 
old man looked at him in amazement. 

“Can you do all that?” he demanded. 

“Sure we can,” said Bruce. “We’re the Boy 
Scout Engineers. Just loan me some of your can- 
vas men who know how to rig a block and tackle 
and we’ll have the elephant on his way to St. 
Cloud by daylight at the latest. ’ ’ 

“All right, I’ll go you,” said the manager. 

Bruce gathered about him all the Scouts not do- 
ing patrol duty. 

“Fellows,” he said, “we can get the elephant 
out of the hole all right, but it will mean some 
hard work. I want you. Romper, to go back to 
Woodbridge and tell the parents of every fellow 
here that we have serious work to do. Tell them 
not to worry if we don’t get back until late. Then 
I want the Owl Patrol to go to headquarters and 
get all the No. 10 wire we have on hand, load it 
on a couple of wheelbarrows and start ’stringing 
a line from our switchboard in the machine shop 
down to the quarry hole here. 

“String it along the fences and where you have 
to cross Druery road put it overhead from tree 


60 THE BOY SCOUT PIEE PIGHTEES 


to tree. Eemember, no monkeying with the tele- 
graph or telephone poles! We can he arrested 
for anything like that. Eomper, you can stop 
in and ask Mr. Pord if he won’t go up to Head- 
quarters and connect up the new line. I don’t 
think we should fuss with the switchboard at 
night. 

“Now, I want the Blue Herons to go to head- 
quarters and disconnect the big five-horsepower 
motor on the lathe. Load it aboard ‘Old Nanc’ 
and bring it down here as fast as you can. On 
your way turn in at Druery road and run up to 
the Baldwin quarries. Ask Dave Porter, the night 
foreman there, if you can borrow the largest and 
heaviest blasting mat he has. We’ll need that. 
Now hurry, fellows.” 

The Scouts started off immediately, and Bruce 
turned to the circus manager. 

“Now, if you’ll bring your canvas men along. 
I’ll give them a good, hard job. It’s one we boys 
couldn’t handle. Are you ready?” 

“Sure!” said the manager. Then to his men, 
“ Come on, boys ! ” 

Bruce led the group around the quarry hole to 


A SCOUT IS EESOUECEFUL 61 

the north side and pointed out the derrick and the 
coil of rusted steel cable. 

“Here’s what we’ll lift the elephant out with, 
providing the boom will hold and your men can 
string the heavy cable through the pulleys at 
night.” 

“Huh! our end of it is no trick for a bunch of 
canvasbacks,” said the foreman of the gang. 
“Get busy, boys; quick now! Some of you bring 
some gasoline torches so ’s we kin see ! Move now, 
you fellers!” 

In five minutes the circus men were working 
like beavers, weaving the cable through the pul- 
leys, placing the heavy boom and getting the der- 
rick fitted up for service. The system and speed 
with which the trained tent riggers went about 
their task was nothing short of marvelous to 
Bruce. He watched them almost fascinated until 
the little manager came up and claimed his atten- 
tion. 

“Look here you feller, I ain’t sure your scheme 
is goin’ t’ work out,” said he, skeptically. 
“How’er we goin’ t’ get some light into t’ hole t’ 
see the brute? These gasoline torches can’t be 


62 THE BOY SCOUT FIRE FIGHTERS 

lowered down there. The elephant would go wild 
and probably drowned hisself, an’ if — ” 

“I’m figuring on using the headlights of Old 
Nanc (that’s the troop’s automobile we built last 
winter) for searchlights. They are powerful 
enough and can be turned anywhere we need ’em. 
There, you can get a look at them now. That’s 
Old Nanc on her way here.” 

Up the road sounded a siren, and the little man- 
ager turned to see two headlights bowling toward 
him. It was Old Nanc loaded down with the 
heavy motor, blasting mat and tools. 

“Fine, Bud; you made a fast trip. How 
are the wire stringers getting along?” shouted 
Bruce to the Scout who was driving the ma- 
chine. 

“We passed them about a hundred and fifty 
yards from here. They are coming along in fine 
shape.” 

“Good,” said Bruce. “Now bring Old Nanc 
right up to the edge of the quarry hole. We want 
to shine her headlights down into there and see 
what it looks like below. Some of the circus men 
can unload the motor, and Nipper, you can show 


A SCOUT IS RESOUECEFUL 


63 


them how to set it up on the derrick platform. 
And while all this is going on, Babe, you take 
charge of making a sling. Take this blasting mat 
and get a couple of circus men to help you bend 
a section of cable to each of the four corners. 
Fasten the ends together around that rusty der- 
rick hook attached to the end of the cable. Hurry 
it, will you, fellows!” 

With the help of some of the “canvas-backs,” 
the automobile was worked off of the road and 
into the field on the north side of the quarry hole 
near the derrick. Then it was pushed cautiously 
toward the edge of the pit and its wheels blocked 
by some big pieces of marble so that it would not 
roll into the hole. The rays of the headlights dis- 
pelled the darkness below iromediately and there 
was His Highness the Elephant, almost sub- 
merged, looking up at them with his ridiculously 
small eyes. 

“Huh! Consam it! I Tmew you kids was 
playin’ me fer a fool,” roared the circus manager 
when he looked into the cut. “How’er you’re 
goin’ to hitch anything around that animal, I’d 
like to know?” 


64 THE BOY SCOUT FIEE FIGHTERS 


“We don’t intend to hitcli anything around him. 
We’re going to make a sling of that big blasting 
mat and raise him out that way.” 

“Yes!” roared the furious manager, “but how 
in tarnation are you going to get it under his 
belly? Think some one is going down there and 
dive between his legs with your blooming old sling, 
do yuh? That animal is nearly all under water, 
remember.” 

To tell the truth, that question had been both- 
ering Bruce from the first. He had hoped that 
the water was only two or three feet deep. But 
there was at least ten feet of drainage in the 
quarry hole! He stood beside Old Nanc and bit 
his lips in his embarrassment. Luck seemed 
against him. Was everything going to fall 
through at the last moment? 

He did not answer the irate manager, but began 
to turn one of the headlights slowly so its rays 
illuminated the west wall of the hole. Then sud- 
denly the light paused, and a smile crept over the 
boy’s face. The white beams had revealed to him 
a shelf of marble two feet above the water-line and 
at least ten feet across, skirting the lower edge of 


A SCOUT IS RESOURCEFUL 


65 


the west wall. He saw defeat turned into victory ! 

“Will that elephant mind his trainer?” Bruce 
demanded of the manager. 

“Huh! Will he? Well, you’d better guess he 
will!” stormed the man. 

“Then everything is simple. You lower the 
trainer in a bo ’son’s chair over the west wall there 
and down to that ledge of marble. He can coax 
the animal out of the water and up on the rocks, 
and after that we can send a couple more men 
down with the sling and they can do the rest. 
See the plan?” 

‘ ‘Well, I ’ll be hanged ! You win, young feller, ’ ’ 
said the manager, smiling for the first time since 
the accident. 

At this point the lads of the Owl Patrol reached 
the quarry hole trundling several empty wheel- 
barrows. Jiminy Gordon was carrying the re- 
mains of the last roll of wire, 

“Here we are, Bruce, ready to connect up, but 
you’d better believe building a line at night is no 
easy job, by Jiminy.” 

“Guess it isn’t,” said Bruce in a businesslike 
tone. “Is Mr. Ford at headquarters?” 


66 THE BOY SCOUT FIRE FIGHTERS 


“Yes, he’s waiting to turn on the current when- 
ever he gets your signal.” 

“Great!” said Bruce. “I was a little worried 
about that. There isn’t any real danger, but you 
might have made a ground or a short circuit 
and upset everything.’^ Then turning to Nipper 
Knapp, he shouted, “How about the motor, Nip- 
per?” 

“Set and ready for connections,” shouted the 
Scout. 

“ Right- 0 ! Then we’ll have Mr. Elephant out 
of the hole in a jiffy,” shouted Bruce, as he seized 
the two ends of the wires and began to bend them 
about the terminals of the motor. He worked 
with speed and accuracy and the little circus man- 
ager could not help commenting on his skill as an 
electrician. 

“Hum! I guess you lads know what you’re 
doin’, all right,” he said. 

“Well, we hope our efforts are successful,” said 
Brace. Then he added, “It’s time you sent your 
trainer down there on the ledge to get the ele- 
phant out of the water.” 

“Don’t worry, son; we ain’t losin’ no time on 


A SCOUT IS EESOUECEFUL 67 

our end of this game. He’s down there now 
an’ — ” 

Shouts of laughter from the crowd assembled 
around the edge of the hole interrupted the little 
manager. 

He and Bruce both looked up involuntarily. 
Then they, too, burst into uproarious laughter at 
the spectacle. 

The trainer had gone down onto the ledge with 
an armful of bread loaves to tempt the elephant 
out of the water. There he stood holding out a 
loaf invitingly while the elephant, still half sub- 
merged, held his great mouth open and his trunk 
aloft expecting the man to toss the bread toward 
him. But this was not the trainer’s intention. 

“Come on, Toby; come oh. Yuh gotta come 
out t’ git this meal,” he called. 

The elephant moved a little closer and waved 
his trunk aloft impatiently as if beckoning the 
trainer to toss the loaf. 

“Oh, no, yuh don’t. Come on out, Toby; come 
on — Hi! Gol ding yuh, leggo! — Hi! Help! 
Help!” 

Toby had refused to be tempted any longer. 


68 THE BOY SCOUT FIEE FIGHTERS 


The waving trunk descended and wrapped quickly 
about the trainer’s leg. Then slowly the animal 
began to pull the man toward the water. The 
trainer was startled half to death. He dropped 
the bread and began to struggle mightily, for the 
black water looked cold to him even though the 
elephant did seem to enjoy it. He clutched at the 
smooth marble floor and tried to brace himself 
with his unincumbered leg, shouting lustily all the 
time. 

“Hi! help me! Help! Kill th’ beast ! I don’ 
wanna git a duckin ’ ! I— I — ^got a cold in — ^my — ’ ’ 
Splash — lluh — hluh — hlub — 

Toby’s black little eyes seemed to twinkle with 
mischief as he gave a final tug and plunged the 
trainer into the water. Then while the man 
floundered about, the animal deliberately put his 
two front feet onto the edge of the shelf and 
reached out toward the pile of loaves. One by 
one he picked them up and deftly slipped them 
into his mouth, disregarding the shouts of the 
trainer. 

But once in the water the man decided that he 
would stay in and drive the elephant out. 


A SCOUT IS KESOUECEFUL 


69 


“Hi, Jerry,” he shouted. “Throw me down 
the pike. I’ll git the blasted critter out o’ here if 
it takes me all night!” 

Jerry tossed the short pike pole down onto the 
shelf and the trainer climbed out to get it. When 
the elephant saw the pole he immediately began 
to wade across the quarry hole. 

“Oh, no, yuh don’t, Toby. I’ll git yuh, now,” 
shouted the man, as he plunged back into the 
water and began to swim toward the beast.” 

“Git outa here, yuh brute,” he thundered, 
when he came alongside the huge bulk. And he 
accentuated his command by jabbing the pike deep 
into the beast’s hide. As meekly as a lamb the 
elephant turned around, after allowing the trainer 
to climb onto the top of his head, he waded to- 
ward the shelf and climbed out of the water with- 
out the slightest sign of rebellion. 

“There, consarn his pesky hide, he’s out now,” 
said the little manager to Bruce, who was still 
laughing over the comical antics of the big beast. 

“Good,” said the lad. Then, turning, he called 
to Babe, “Hi! how about the blasting mat sling — 
is it finished?” 


70 THE BOY SCOUT FIRE FIGHTERS 


“Yes, it’s ready,” shouted the fat Scout. 

“Well, then, we’re all in good shape,” said the 
patrol leader, inspecting the outfit. “Now for 
business. Ho, Jiminy, flash Mr. Ford the sig- 
nal.” 

Instantly Gordon bounded out of the circle of 
light and climbed the nearest stone pile. Then 
with his battery he began to flash the Morse code 
toward headquarters, where Mr. Ford was wait- 
ing. The circus manager took the whole perform- 
ance in with wide eyes. 

“Say, hang it all, you Scouts know a thing or 
two, don’t yuh?” 

“Yes, we know enough to be fairly helpful,” 
said Bruce modestly. Then, as he saw Mr. Ford 
flash back his O. K., he said, “Now we’ll let ’er 
go.” 

He seized the reverse lever on the motor and 
threw it over. The derrick drums squeaked a 
moment before settling down to a business-like 
grumble. Then the rusted steel cable, with the 
improvised blasting mat sling dangling at its end, 
was played out swiftly until the mass of woven 
rope settled down on the ledge beside the circus 


A SCOUT IS RESOUECEFUL 


71 


men, wlio were hard at work putting chains about 
the elephant’s feet and trunk so that he could 
not squirm about in the sling. The adjusting of 
the heavy affair was no easy task, but the men 
worked with a will and a few moments later Bruce 
caught their signal that all was ready. 

For a moment he paused with his hand on the 
starting switch. He was almost afraid to throw 
it into position. ‘ ‘ Oh, if the boom will only hold, ’ ’ 
he whispered to himself, for to have his plans fail 
now would have been more than he could endure. 

He moved the switch. There was a slight arc 
as contact was made. Then slowly the motor be- 
gan to turn. The boom stiffened and creaked om- 
inously as the cable tightened. He pushed the 
switch over another notch. The big animal was 
lifted off its feet! 

Would the boom hold? Bruce and every mem- 
ber of the troop stood tense and silent, as they 
saw the big body of the elephant dangling over 
the pit. He was lifted a foot, two feet, five feet ! 
He was snorting and squirming in protest, and 
Bruce’s heart almost stopped when he saw the 
boom give under his weight. 


72 THE BOY SCOUT FIEE FIGHTEES 


“Oh, if he would only hold still!” muttered the 
boy. “He’ll smash the timber, sure.” 

The patrol leader pushed the switch over still 
another notch and the motor began to hum and 
sputter. The beast was raised ten feet, fifteen 
feet, eighteen, twenty. Now he was on the level 
with the top of the quarry ! 

Slowly the boom began to work in, creaking and 
snapping under the strain. Splinters were rais- 
ing here and there on the timber. Bruce knew 
it was only a matter of seconds now before the 
great stick would be shattered. The elephant was 
but a few feet from safety. Canvas men were 
reaching out over the quarry’s edge to seize the 
side of the sling. They gripped it 1 They pulled 
and tugged, and with a prodigious squeak the 
boom swung over. Then with a crash it buckled, 
dropping the elephant on the very brink of the 
hole ! 

Fortunately, the timber did not part entirely 
or some one would have been killed. The lacing 
of steel derrick cable held it in place, and every- 
thing was safe. 

It took the Scouts and the circus men a brief 


A SCOUT IS RESOURCEFUL 


73 


instant to realize this, and when they did a cheer 
went up that must have waked the villagers in 
Woodbridge. 

The little circus manager was delighted. He 
rushed up and grasped Bruce’s hand. 

“Fine work, young feller! Fine work, I say! 
Now you Scouts all git home and tumble into bed. 
My men will clean things up here in fine shape. 
It’s half -past three. Sleep ’til ten o’clock and 
by that time a couple of my best vans will be at 
that buildin’ yuh call headquarters waitin’ t’ take 
yuh t’ St. Cloud. Yer goin’ t’ be my guests at 
t’ circus er I’ll know the reason why.” 

“Gee, that’s mighty good,” said Bruce, ex- 
citedly. ‘ ‘ How about it, fellows ? We don ’t mind 
taking that sort of pay for a good turn, do we?” 

“You bet we don’t,” shouted the Scouts, en- 
thusiastically. And a few moments later they fell 
in line and started off toward Woodbridge. 


CHAPTEE VI 


HELPING TO MAKE THE MOVIES 


w 


''HE-E-E-0-0-0! whe-e-e-o-o-o! 
wlie-e-e-o-o-o!” screamed the siren 
as Bruce Clifford’s motorcycle 
came to a halt in front of the Weir cottage on 
Willow Street. Then : 

“Hi, Bud — Bud-de-de! Hello-o-o, Bud ! Come 
on, wake up!” shouted the leader of the Owl Pa- 
trol, cupping his hands about his mouth and di- 
recting his voice toward an upstairs window. A 
moment later the window in question opened and 
Bud in his undershirt, with a towel in one hand 
and a cake of soap in the other, appeared. 

“What ’re you making such a row for? I’m 
awake,” he shouted rather irritably, for Bud 
really never became thoroughly cheerful until 
after he had had his breakfast. 

“Say, Bud, the highway bridge over Muddy 
Brook — the one just below the railroad tracks on 
Lake Road, has gone down under a big motor 

74 


HELPING TO MAKE THE MOVIES 75 


truck full of scenery and things belonging to the 
Historical Motion Picture Company, the outfit 
that has been taking Revolutionary War pictures 
over near Ticonderoga. The machine’s half un- 
der water and the men need help. There’s a 
chance for the Scouts to get busy. Are you with 
us?” 

“You bet I am. I’ll be to headquarters in three 
winks,” said the leader of the Blue Heron Patrol, 
considerably better natured. 

“Fine! Hurry now! I’m off to headquarters 
to call the rest of the fellows together,” said 
Bruce, as he started his motorcycle and shot up 
the long incline that led to the machine-shop head- 
quarters of Quarry Troop No. 1, of Woodbridge, 
popularly known as the Boy Scout Engineers. 

The leader of the Owls had left home a little 
after daylight that morning with fishing pole and 
creel strapped to his machine, for he intended 
trying the brown trout in Concord valley. But 
when he reached the little highway bridge where 
the Lake Road crossed a shallow brook near the 
Rutland Railroad tracks, a situation presented 
itself that banished all thought of trout fishing. 


76 THE BOY SCOUT FIEE FIGHTERS 


The ends of the bridge timbers had rotted away 
from dampness and under the weight of a big 
motor truck had parted from their stone pier. 
Their collapse had projected the heavy vehicle 
front first into the stream, so that its hood was 
jammed against the abutment, while its hind 
wheels still remained on the sloping bridge floor. 
The chauffeur and his two assistants stood sur- 
veying the scene in a most dejected attitude. 

Of course Bruce stopped at the stream and 
looked over the situation, asking innumerable 
questions. But the men were not in a pleasant 
frame of mind and gave him only disagreeable 
answers, which nettled the scout to the point of 
exclaiming : 

“Huh, if you weren’t so grouchy about it, I’d 
like to try help you get out of the mess you are in. 
Maybe we could help a great deal. I’m a member 
of the Boy Scout Engineers, and it is just our fun 
to lend a hand in a fix like this. ’ ’ 

The chauffeur looked at the lad in amazement 
for a moment. Then he spoke in milder tones. 

“Excuse me, son. I didn’t mean t’ be so nasty. 
If you fellows will give us a hand, we ’d be mighty 


HELPING TO MAKE THE MOVIES 77 


much, obliged. I know what the scouts are. I’ve 
met ’em before. ’ ’ 

“Thank you for the compliment,” said Bruce. 
“We’ll be here with block and tackle in less than 
an hour. In the meantime, get your truck un- 
loaded,” and, turning about, he raced back to town, 
stopping only to awaken Bud Weir before reach- 
ing headquarters. 

Entering the home of the troop, he hurried to 
the wire-room on the second floor and began call- 
ing the scouts from breakfast. The telegraph 
line leading from headquarters was a big loop 
that extended through the town and connected 
with an instrument in the home of every second- 
class scout, and all the boys could be called to 
headquarters in a jiffy. 

When his summons had been answered by most 
of the boys, Bruce hurried downstairs and pro- 
ceeded to get “Old Nanc,” the troop’s home- 
made automobile, ready for service. Into it he 
loaded all the manila rope he could lay hands on, 
as well as blocks and pulleys, chains, crowbars, 
axes, sledges and everything else that might come 
in handy. 


78 THE BOY SCOUT FIEE FIGHTEKS 


By the time this work was well under way the 
scouts began to arrive and lend a hand. They 
came on motor cycle and on foot until there were 
twenty-odd gathered at headquarters. And when 
they were all assembled, Bruce outlined briefly the 
situation at the Lake Eoad bridge and gave them 
his idea of how the task should be handled. Of 
course, they were all eager to undertake the work, 
and in a few minutes they were on their way to 
the scene of trouble. 

The chauffeur and his men had done as Bruce 
suggested, and when the lads arrived they found 
two great stacks of canvas scenery by the road- 
side. They gave this only a moment ’s inspection, 
however, for they had work before them. With 
as much system as a trained army corps they be- 
gan to unload the coils of rope and the pulleys. 
Then, under Bruce’s direction, several wove the 
cordage into a block and tackle arrangement. 
This done, a group headed by Eomper Eyan re- 
moved shoes and stockings and began to ford the 
shallow stream, carrying the block and tackle with 
them. In no time they had one of the pulleys 
lashed to a substantial maple tree by the roadside. 


HELPING TO MAKE THE MOVIES 79 


The other pulley was fastened to the back end of 
the automobile truck, which was still on the slop- 
ing floor of the bridge. 

When this was completed the single strand of 
rope on which they were to haul was passed back 
across the stream and attached to the rear axle 
of “Old Nanc.” 

Then came the test of the hoys’ engineering 
skill. At the request of Bruce the scouts all seized 
the rope to assist “Old Nanc” in hauling the big 
machine backward up the grade. Bud, the official 
driver of the troop’s automobile, climbed to his 
place and everything was ready. 

“Now, all together! Pull!” shouted Bruce, 
and at the command every scout arched his shoul- 
ders and hauled his hardest, while “Old Nanc’s” 
engine began to cough and grumble furiously. 

The tackle grew taut. The pulleys squeaked 
and groaned and the bridge timbers protested in 
like manner as the big truck began to move. Up 
it crawled, inch by inch. Now the hood was out 
of water ! A moment later the rear wheels were 
onto the road! Slowly but surely it was lifted 
out of the brook until, finally, with a mighty tug. 


80 THE BOY SCOUT FIRE FIGHTERS 


the lads backed it clear off the bridge and safely 
onto the highway. 

“Fine!” shouted the chauffeur. “I knew you 
scouts were the bully boys. But, say, fellows, 
how’s the machine going to get across the stream? 
We are bound for Woodbridge, you know, and 
we’re on the wrong side of the busted bridge 
now.” 

“Oh, maybe we can work that out some way,” 
said Bruce. “I guess we’ll try to make a pair of 
shears out of a couple of fence rails, then hitch 
the block and tackle to the bridge floor and hoist 
it back to its proper level again. The rest of the 
fellows will get all of the discarded railroad ties 
they can And along the tracks over yonder and 
build a square crib under the bridge. They can 
lay the ties on top of each other in log cabin fash- 
ion and I guess that will hold up the bridge under 
your machine. It will make the crossing safe 
until the town authorities can put new bridge tim- 
ber in place, too.” 

“Sounds mighty sensible,” said the chauffeur. 
“Will it take long?” 

“I don’t think so. It’s only half past ten now. 


HELPING TO MAKE THE MOVIES 81 


Here comes the ten thirty Montreal Special,” said 
Bruce, as the Canadian flyer shot around a bend 
in the railroad tracks, her whistle screaming her 
approach to the Woodbridge station, 

‘ ‘ Come on, then, let’s get busy right away. Per- 
haps we can have the machine into Woodbridge 
by noon,” said the chauffeur. Then, to his as- 
sistants, he called. “Hi, you fellows, git over 
there to the railroad tracks and pick up some o’ 
those old ties. Go along with the scouts. They 
know old ones from new ones.” 

All the lads, except two or three of the older 
boys, waded the brook and started out after crib 
building material. The others remained to help 
Bruce rig up the shears and put the block and 
tackle into place. 

Fortunately, section gangs had been working 
on the railroad recently, putting in new ties, and 
there were any number of discarded timbers along 
the embankment. These the lads appropriated, 
for they knew that the railroad men no longer 
wanted them and that sooner or later a bonfire 
would be made of them. The heavy timbers were 
piled up on the bank of the brook as fast as the 


82 THE BOY SCOUT FIRE FIGHTERS 


scouts could find them, and by the time Bruce and 
his helpers had hitched the block and tackle to the 
sagging bridge the crib builders were ready to 
begin work. 

Raising the bridge floor was accomplished 
quickly, for the wooden structure was nowhere 
near as heavy as the auto truck. Indeed, “Old 
Nanc” managed to haul it up all alone. This 
accomplished, the scouts waded into the water 
again, and, working in pairs, carried the railroad 
ties to a point just under the broken structure. 
The first two ties were put up and down stream 
and weighted with stones to keep them from float- 
ing away. Two more were then placed across the 
stream on top of the first set, exactly like logs in 
a cabin. Then, like bees, the boys traveled back 
and forth to the bank, carrying the heavy ties, 
until finally the crib was constructed snugly under 
the bridge flooring with two heavy cross timbers 
resting safely on top. 

When the tackle was finally removed and the 
bridge platform settled into place and gave every 
indication of being safely propped up by the crib. 


HELPINa TO MAKE THE MOVIES 83 


the scouts gave a ringing cheer, for their efforts 
had been successful. 

And, as if in answer to the cheer, the loud honk- 
ing of a motor horn was heard and a big red mo- 
tor car containing one man and the driver came 
tearing down the road. 

“Here comes our manager, Mr. Dickie!” ex- 
claimed the chauffeur when he saw the machine. 

Mr. Dickie proved to be a very businesslike and 
hustling individual. He bounded from the car 
before it stopped, demanding at the same time to 
know all the particulars of what had happened. 
It seems that he had seen the stalled motor truck 
from the window of the ten thirty train and had 
hired the first automobile he could find at the 
Woodbridge station and rushed to the scene of 
trouble. 

Briefly Bruce and the chauffeur told him all 
that had happened and all that had been done. 

“Eebuilt the bridge, eh?* Looks as if it would 
hold a steam engine now. That’s bully,” ex- 
claimed Mr. Dickie. “Now, if you fellows can tell 
me of a building equipped with electricity that I 


84 THE BOY SCOUT FIRE FIGHTERS 


can rent for a studio for a couple of days, you will 
have done me another great favor. We are going 
to make some historical films of Ethan Allen and 
the Green Mountain Boys. Say, by the way, you 
fellows look intelligent. How would you like to 
be my supesf I’ll pay you fifty cents a day. 
How about it?” 

“What’s a supel” asked Bruce and Bud to- 
gether. 

“Why, a supernumerary. I want a number of 
people to take part in the production, as Green 
Mountain Boys or British soldiers or the mob, 
or roles like that, where good actors are not 
needed. I have a big battle scene as a climax. 
I’ll need you in that surely.” 

“In the movies, eh? Whoope-e-e-e ! Fine!” 
exclaimed several, and the manager knew immedi- 
ately that he would not have to look further for 
additional members for his east. 

“And, say, about a studio; perhaps you could 
use the meeting room on the top floor of our head- 
quarters building. We have all the electricity you 
want, only there isn’t much daylight for taking 
pictures. There are only three windows, and — ” 


HELPING TO MAKE THE MOVIES 85 


“Tut, tut, never mind the daylight. We don’t 
need it in modem photography. We’ll go up and 
look at the place,” said the manager. Then to 
the chauffeur he shouted: “Here, Jim, fasten a 
rope to the track and I’ll have this machine of 
mine tow you up to the scouts’ headquarters.” 


CHAPTER VII 


BTHAN AliLiEN COMES TO UFE AGAIN 

F or the next days the troop’s headquarters 
on Otter Hill was the strangest place imag- 
inable. Passers by were surprised to find 
groups of real Indians in war paint, Colonial sol- 
diers, British troopers and Green Mountain Boys 
in buckskin garments walking up and down in 
front of the building or sitting in the sun waiting 
for their turn to “go on” in the studio room up- 
stairs. These were the regular actors of the His- 
torical Motion Picture Company, who had come to 
Woodbridge by train to take part in the Ethan 
Allen film which Mr. Dickie was making. 

To be sure, all this fascinated the scouts. It 
was a decided pleasure to be allowed to circulate 
among such famous people. Ethan Allen was a 
big, broad-shouldered actor whose name was 
known from coast to coast. So was the individual 
who took the part of Captain Rember Baker, Cap- 


86 


ETHAN ALLEN COMES TO LIFE 87 


tain Warner and Captain Warrington. Anne 
Story was a girl whose face the boys had seen on 
a dozen different billboards, and there were any 
number of other well-known individuals in the 
troupe. And there were real live Indians, too, 
who afforded the boys no end of interest. Alto- 
gether, the advent of the motion picture company 
was a liberal education for the lads. 

But for knowledge of the technical nature, which 
the boys liked best, the interior of headquarters 
presented a world of opportunity. When the com- 
pany ’s electricians and stage carpenters had fin- 
ished with their work in the big meeting room 
Bruce and his chums scarcely recognized it as the 
same place. Two hanks of a dozen electric lights 
as big as street arc lamps, and just as powerful, 
had been strung across the ceiling. These, by 
means of reflectors, were made to flood the far end 
of the room, “the stage,” with a steady white 
light. 

Behind the light was the camera man, grinding 
away steadily, taking sixteen pictures a second, 
while before the light were the actors playing 
their parts, now in a log cabin, now in a Colonial 


88 THE BOY SCOUT FIRE FIGHTERS 


mansion and again in a courtroom at Albany, ac- 
cording to the way the scene shifters arranged 
the portable canvas scenery. 

Between the camera man and the actors, to the 
left of the stage, sat Mr. Dickie in his shirt sleeves, 
clutching a bundle of manuscript in one hand and 
a megaphone in the other. Through this effective 
mouthpiece he directed each of the actors. The 
members of the cast did their work entirely in 
pantomime, except when Mr. Dickie bawled a few 
lines at them, which they repeated so that the 
camera could register the action of their lips. 

It was all so perfectly wonderful to the scouts 
that they stood for hours watching the making of 
the film ; that is, they stood still and watched while 
the actors and photographers were at work, but 
the moment business was suspended, while scenes 
were changed, they began to ask questions of every 
one in sight. 

They learned that the big lights were a new 
type of tungsten lamp filled with nitrogen gas 
which made them bum three times as bright as 
other lamps. They discovered that the original 
photographs were only three-quarters of an inch 


ETHAN ALLEN COMES TO LIFE 89 


long and they were magnified from thirty to fifty 
thousand times when they were projected onto a 
movie screen by the machine in the theater; They 
found out also that raw film cost four cents a 
foot, that “movie” actors were paid as high as 
$20,000 a year, that there were nearly four hun- 
dred American firms making movies, that most 
of the films of the world were made in this coun- 
try, that American “movies” were being shown 
in China, Australia, India and all sorts of far-off 
corners of the world, and that in one American 
city alone the “movie” theaters took in more than 
$40,000 a day in admission fees. 

All this and a great deal more did the inquisi- 
tive youngsters gather, until they became veritable 
motion picture encyclopedias. Of course, chief 
among the men whom they questioned was Mr. 
Dickie. In fact, every time the manager finished 
directing a scene, Bruce and several other scouts 
pounced upon him and began plying him with 
questions concerning the film industry, all of which 
he answered in great detail, for he appreciated the 
fact that they were boys who wanted to learn and 
understand. 


90 THE BOY SCOUT FIRE FIGHTERS 


It was during one of these periods of catechising 
that he finally explained the big fihn he was mak- 
ing at the time. 

“This photoplay,” he said, “is to he a feature 
production; five reels of 1,000 feet each. I’m go- 
ing to give all the details of the troubles Ethan 
Allen and the Green Mountain Boys had with the 
authorities of New York State over the New 
Hampshire Grants. Of course, you boys know 
the story. It’s history.” 

“You bet we do,” said Bruce; “find a Vermont 
boy who hasn’t read about the Green Mountain 
Boys.” 

“Well, I’m glad you are so well informed. It 
will help a little when you take your parts to- 
morrow afternoon. I’ve finished the studio work 
on the film now, and all that remains are some 
exteriors in the vicinity of the Lake. The film will 
wind up with a big battle between Allen and . his 
Green Mountain Boys against the Sheriff of Al- 
bany, assisted by some Indians and Red Coats.” 

“I want you fellows to he the original Green 
Mountain Scouts. Your buckskins are all down- 


ETHAN ALLEN COMES TO LIFE 91 


stairs in the trunks. They came by express this 
morning. I’ll expect you all to report here to- 
morrow at two thirty. Get into the duds and come 
up to the lake. You’ll find us all ready for you 
up there with an automobile full of flintlock rifles 
and things. The stage will all be set for the big 
battle around the mouth of the real Ethan Allen 
cave. How does that suit you?” It was a 
thrilling idea. 

“How does it suit? Wow; were there ever fel- 
lows as lucky as we are? Just think of being in 
a real movie film; I tell you — ” 

“ Jiminy crickets, we’ll have the time of our life, 
Mr. Dickie. Why, we ’ll do it for nothing, just for 
the fun of the thing,” exclaimed Gordon gener- 
ously. 

“Oh, no, you won’t; you’ll get fifty cents each, 
and, besides, I’m paying you ten dollars a day for 
the use of this building. Forty dollars is due you 
so far. That should help the troop’s treasury a 
little, eh, boys?” 

“You bet it will,” said Bruce. “Only we don’t 


like — ” 


92 THE BOY SCOUT FIEE FIGHTEES 


“Tut, tut; that’ll do. I owe you money, and 
I’m going to pay it. If you don’t take it I’ll mail 
it to your Assistant Scout master, Mr. Ford. I 
met him yesterday,” said Mr. Dickie. Then, to 
the actors, he called: “Next scene, gentlemen! 
Eing the bell, Benny ! ’ ’ And Bruce and the scouts 
realized that it was time for them to leave. 

The following day Woodbridge witnessed the 
strangest scene in its history. It was that of a 
score of Green Mountain Scouts, in buckskins and 
coon caps, traveling up the dusty road toward 
the Lake. Some were astride motor cycles, a half- 
dozen were crowded into “Old Nanc” and the rest 
were walking. 

An hour after leaving headquarters they reached 
the lake shore. Ethan Allen’s cave was up a very 
steep grade from the water and the boys could 
see as they rounded the bend in the road dozens 
of Eed Coats and Indians waiting for them. 
Bruce and the lads on the motorcycles put on high 
speed and took the grade in whirlwind fashion but 
“Old Nanc” was not equal to the hill, so she was 
parked in a lot by the lakeside and the rest of the 
troop went up to the cave on foot. 


ETHAN ALLEN COMES TO LIFE 93 


Immediately upon their arrival activities be- 
gan. Mr. Dickie formed them in line and marched 
them up beside the big automobile truck that stood 
in the middle of the road. Here each lad was 
given a flintlock rifle and sent over to the mouth 
of the cave, where Ethan Allen and a half-dozen 
Green Mountain Boys were waiting, seated about 
a camp fire. 

“Now, boys,” said the manager, when all had 
been served with guns and had taken their places, 
“those weapons of yours are only dummies. I 
don’t want you lads fooling with powder even in 
a sham battle. I won’t be responsible for your 
eyes. My regular actors will do all the firing 
necessary, and they will make smoke enough to 
cover the film. All I want you fellows to do is 
aim and pull the trigger. Are you ready now, 
gentlemen ? Camera ! ’ ’ 

Mr. Dickie stood with his feet apart, megaphone 
in hand, in the middle of the road. The camera 
man had set up his tripod on the rear end of the 
motor truck, which was held on the very brink 
of the grade by its brakes. At the word “Cam- 
era” he began to turn the crank of his machine 


94 THE BOY SCOUT FIRE FIGHTERS 


rapidly, and almost before they knew it tbe Boy 
Scout Engineers were being photographed as part 
of a real feature fihn. 

Action followed swiftly. While the lads were 
sitting about the fire an Indian came out of the 
woods. It was Neshobee, the friendly Red Man 
of Judge Thompson’s story. He advanced to 
Ethan Allen, his hand extended aloft as a sign of 
friendship. Then he began to talk, pointing into 
the bushes and up toward the leaves of the trees. 
Instantly the Green Mountain Boys were alert ! 

“The Red Coats and the Sheriff!” snapped 
Allen, and every man was crouching, gun in hand, 
waiting for the attack. A Red Coat appeared in 
the bushes ! 

Up went a dozen muskets, and the next instant 
there was a thundering roar ! The Red Coat dis- 
appeared! But others came! They bobbed up 
everywhere! Behind bushes and trees! From 
rocks and logs they sprang, advancing and firing 
in apparently deadly earnestness! The roar of 
the musketry was deafening! Bruce and his 
chums were thrilled with enthusiasm, and they 
snapped their guns at every enemy in sight ! On 


ETHAN ALLEN COMES TO LIFE 95 

came the Eed Coats and the Indians with the 
Sheriff of New York leading them I They ad- 
vanced into the open, firing deliberately at the lit- 
tle group of defenders about the cave ! But their 
fire was answered with interest, and soldiers and 
Indians were stumbling and falling in all direc- 
tions ! 

And above all the din could be heard the voice 
of Mr. Dickie, the stage manager, roaring direc- 
tions through his megaphone. “Great scene! 
Fine ! Kegister excitement ! Fall down, Murphy ! 
Tumble over, there, Lisk; you’re dead — tumble, I 
say. Don’t be afraid of your uniform. I’ll pay 
for that. Fall! — ^fall! — ^fall! Now, Green Moun- 
tain Boys, up and at ’em! Charge! Charge! 
Beat it, you Eed Coats — ^you’re licked. Eun! 
Git! Beat it, I say! After ’em, scouts, after 
’em! Fine! Great scene! All right; that’ll do. 
Quit firing.” 

The roar of the flintlocks ceased and Bruce and 
the rest of the scouts stopped, thoroughly out of 
breath with excitement. The Eed Coats and In- 
dians stopped also, and, turning about, rejoined 
their erstwhile enemies. The “dead” and 


96 THE BOY SCOUT FIRE FIGHTERS 


“wounded” stood up, too, and began to walk about 
and chat with the rest, all of which gave the scouts 
the impression that a “movie” battle was the only 
really pleasant kind of battle, after all. 

“Well, you scouts certainly filled the bill as 
Green Mountain Boys,” said Mr. Dickie when the 
boys reached the road where he was standing. 
‘ ‘ That will make a great scene. Now, just as soon 
as Bob gets his stuff stowed away in the truck, 
we ’ll start for town. ’ ’ 

Bruce noticed that the camera man was having 
difficulty in getting his outfit in the truck unas- 
sisted, so he ran on ahead of the others to help 
him. 

“Here, Bruce,” said the movie operator, “you 
get up in the wagon and I will hand the things to 
you and you can stow them under the seat.” 

The camera man handed up the box-like ma- 
chine, which Bruce started packing under the seat. 
Just as the operator started back up the hill to 
get his tripod, in some unaccountable manner the 
brakes of the heavy truck loosened and the big 
vehicle started to roll slowly down the hill. So 


ETHAN ALLEN COMES TO LIFE 97 


steep was the grade that the truck gained mo- 
mentum at a terrific rate. 

Bob, the camera man, noticing what had hap- 
pened, turned and ran swiftly down the hill. But 
it had gained such headway that he couldn’t over- 
take it. 

“Hi, there!” shrieked Mr. Dickie. “Stop that 
truck ! Stop it ! My film ! It ’s all in the camera, 
and the truck ’s running away ! Stop it, some one ! 
Save the film!” 

Bruce’s first impulse was to jump from the truck 
and leave it to its fate, but when he heard the man- 
ager ’s frantic appeal to save the precious film he 
climbed quickly over the back of the high seat. 
In another instant he grasped the steering wheel 
and jammed his foot down upon the brake lever. 

Then bang — ! the brake band snapped and the 
truck lurched forward again ! Bruce had applied 
the brake too suddenly, and the next moment he 
found himself in a runaway motor truck that could 
not be stopped until it reached level ground. 

The patrol leader felt like he was turning cold. 
Before him stretched a long grade, and at the end 


98 THE BOY SCOUT FIRE FIGHTERS 


a sharp turn! If he did not make that turn the 
motor truck would crash against a rock or tree and 
kill him, or at best it would plunge into the Lake 
and then the film would be lost ! Could he make 
the turn? 

On rushed the massive truck. It had developed 
express train speed now and it rocked from side 
to side like a ship in a gale as it tore down the 
rough country road ! Bruce clutched the big steer- 
ing wheel with deathlike grip and tried his might- 
iest to keep the cumbersome vehicle straight ! He 
realized that a loose stone or a deep rut meant 
death to him and destruction to the motor car! 
His teeth were clenched and his face was white ! 
The wind had whisked away his coonskin cap. 

“Oh, if I can only make that turn! I must! 
I’ve got to!” he told himself, as he saw the dis- 
tance to the foot of the hill being eaten up by the 
fiying motor ear. Nearer and nearer came the 
turn. It was a hundred yards away. Now 
seventy, fifty, forty! Would the truck stay on all 
four wheels or would it go plunging on madly, end 
over end, into the lake? Could he make it? The 
road bent slightly now. Bruce followed the curve. 


ETHAN ALLEN COMES TO LIFE 99 


Now came the turn. Bruce tugged at the wheel. 
The big truck swerved. It was skidding ! It was 
on two wheels and ploughing up the dust in great 
clouds! It was almost around! It was around! 
The road ahead of him was straight and clear ! 

Bruce breathed a great sigh of relief. And so 
did fifty individuals who had been watching the 
terrible race from the top of the hill. They 
cheered loud and long when the big truck shot 
safely around the bend and headed up the level 
road toward Woodbridge. Then all of them 
started down the grade pell mell, nor did they stop 
until they reached the place where the truck had 
finally stalled. Then every one tried to shake the 
boy’s hand. 

“By Jove, but for your nerve, Bruce, my boy, 
we’d have been minus film and motor truck. For 
pure grit, I think you scouts take the prize. I 
wish I could think of some way to repay you,” 
cried Mr. Dickie, pumping Bruce around some- 
what roughly. 

“Why — er — ^you see — ^we don’t want any pay 
for what we do, but if it can be arranged, I — I — 
well, we sure would like to see that ‘movie. ’ Can’t 


100 THE BOY SCOUT FIRE FIGHTERS 

you send one to the Woodbridge Theater?” said 
Bruce. 

“Huh, send one to the Woodbridge Theater! 
Why, I’ll bring the first release of it to Wood- 
bridge myself and show it in your headquarters. 
How’ll that suit you fellows?” 

And the enthusiastic replies of the scouts con- 
vinced the “movie” manager that he had hit the 
right idea. 


CHAPTER Vin 


THE PKIZE CONTEST 

T 'TELL, fellows, there’s this much 
%/ %/ about it, if we are going to build a 
real sure enough motorboat this 
year we’ve got to get a hustle on us and earn 
some money. With the rent we received from the 
Historical Motion Picture Company and the 
money we secured from the circus ticket wagon 
we have just $73.75. We need $94.00 to buy the 
motor alone, even with the reduction that Mr. 
Clifford can get for us. And added to that is the 
expense of extra lumber and fittings, which will 
be at least thirty dollars more. Now where do we 
stand, I’d like to know?” 

Thus did Bud Weir unburden his mind to the 
other boys of the Quarry Troop, sometimes called, 
because of their mechanical skill, the Boy Scout 
Engineers. 

All spring the scouts had been planning to build 


101 


102 THE BOY SCOUT FIEE FIGHTERS 


a motorboat to be used on Long Lake. Tbey had 
bad their summer camp on the shores of this lake 
for the past two years, and they intended to have 
a camp there as usual this year, but they had de- 
cided to make it a construction camp and spend 
most of their time building a thirty-foot power 
boat, which would be the largest vessel on the lake. 
The idea was to increase the troop’s fund in the 
treasury as much as possible during the Winter 
and Spring and use the money to purchase a three- 
horsepower gasoline motor, which they calculated 
would be large enough to drive the boat faster 
than any craft thereabout. 

But somehow the months had hurried past and 
the fund had not increased at a proportionate 
pace. Indeed if it had not been for a windfall of 
forty odd dollars from the Historical Motion Pic- 
ture Company, the treasury would have been in a 
very bad way. The scouts really could not under- 
stand it at all. They had worked hard, or at least 
they thought they had, and they had contributed 
every cent they had made toward the engine fund, 
but somehow the balance in the Woodbridge bank 
looked mighty small to the scouts. 


THE PRIZE CONTEST 


103 


“What the dickens is the matter with us any- 
way, are we lazy?” queried Nipper Knapp, break- 
ing the long silence that followed Bud’s remark. 

“By jiminy, it looks that way to me,” said Jim- 
iny Gordon emphatically. 

“It’s procrastination that — ” 

“Whoops! Hi! what was that word? Ho, ho, 
say it again, Bruce,” shouted Romper Ryan hi- 
lariously. 

“He’s worked for months on that Boys’ Life 
Dictionary Contest,” said Ray Martin, “that’s 
what’s the matter with Bruce. What does it 
mean? Maybe it’s something to eat!” 

“Aw, say, quit your joshin’ me,” said Bruce, 
“that’s a real word. It means — ah — er — ^well — ” 

“Sure it does, we knew it all the time, didn’t we. 
Romper?” said Nipper Knapp. 

“That’s exactly what it means,” said Bud quite 
soberly. 

“Well, it means that we’ve been putting off 
work. We haven’t come down to brass tacks. 
And now we’re up against it and our motorboat 
proposition falls through,” snapped Bruce. 

“Well, if that’s what it means then you told the 


104 THE BOY SCOUT FIRE FIGHTERS 


truth,” said Bud, resuming his indignant attitude ; 
“we fellows haven’t been on the job. I haven’t 
made a cent in three weeks and neither has any one 
of the rest of you. Now be honest, have you?” 

“No, we haven’t,” said Dug Maston. 

“I guess we are actually growing lazy,” said 
Romper solemnly. 

Then Babe Wilson, the sarcastic fat scout, 
added : 

“No, we haven’t been lazy, we’ve just been 
waiting for opportunity to knock at our door — ” 

{Bap — rap — rap, rap — rap — rap — rap.) 

Babe looked startled and swallowed hard. 
Then, his sense of humor bobbing to the surface 
again, he grinned. 

“That’s Mr. Opportunity,” he said. 

“No, it wasn’t,” said Romper, rushing to the 
window, “it was a blasted old bill jmster tacking a 
sign on Headquarters — Hi! git out o’ there! 
This isn’t an old barn!” he shouted to the bill 
poster. 

But that individual never heard him and kept 
tacking away until the bill was up. Then he went 
on down the road whistling merrily. 


THE PRIZE CONTEST 


105 


“Hang it, Headquarters will look like a bill- 
board soon. I’m going down to pull bis blooming 
old sign otf our wall,” said Romper, as be dis- 
appeared through the doorway and stamped down 
the stairs. But a few moments later be seemed to 
have changed bis mind, for be was heard to shout : 

“Hi, fellows, come on down. It’s worth read- 
ing anyway.” And what the scouts read when 
they crowded about him was : 


$200 I n Prizes $200 
for 

Brown Xail MotH Exterminators 

The Town of Woodbridge is offering $200 
in prizes to the individuals who can ad- 
vance and demonstrate a practical method 
of exterminating the Brown Tail Moths that 
are infesting the trees in the township. 
For particulars apply to Mayor’s Office, 
Town Hall. 

TKree Prizes Offered 

$100 $60 $40 


“Say, was that opportunity, after all!” asked 
Babe in wide-eyed amazement when he read the 
poster. 

And every boy looked at every other boy and 
wondered. 


106 THE BOY SCOUT FIEE PIGHTEES 


If there are any who do not believe that boys 
can become genuinely interested in study, they 
should have visited the Quarry Troop headquar- 
ters a few days after the discovery of the work of 
the bill poster. For at least three consecutive 
afternoons a dozen lads spent their time in the 
big meeting room on the second floor poring over 
dry looking pamphlets which bore the stamp of 
the Bureau of Entomology of the United States 
Department of Agriculture. 

They were all perusing this literature with the 
one purpose — to learn as much as they could about 
the habits of the brown tail moths, for they hoped 
in their study to discover some new and original 
way to exterminate the pest and thereby win one 
of the three generous prizes offered by the town 
authorities. But though they pursued the subject 
relentlessly none of them seemed able to generate 
an idea that smacked of originality. 

“Aw, say, fellows, this will never do,” said 
Babe Wilson. “We can’t compete in this contest. 
We don’t know anything about chemistry or things 
like that. Why, we don’t even know a Brown Tail 
moth when we see one.” He disconsolately tossed 


THE PEIZE CONTEST 107 

away his pamphlet and shoved his hands into his 
pockets. 

“Pshaw, don’t give up so soon,” said Bud Weir. 
“This reading isn’t very gay but all the same we 
are learning some things we should know. And 
even if we are not familiar with chemistry, we 
may be able to figure out a way of getting rid of 
them by means of some mechanical appliance.” 

“I think this is mighty interesting,” said Bruce, 
looking up from his leaflet. “I know now what’s 
ailing those apple trees down back of our bam. 
The Brown Tail moths are in them. Listen to 
this : ‘ The principal injury caused by these moths 
is due to the feeding habits of the larvae. They 
attack apple, pear, plum, oak, elm and willow trees. 
If the infestation is bad the caterpillars are often 
numerous enough to devour the leaves as fast as 
the trees are able to develop them. As the webs 
are made on the terminals the growth of the tree 
is frequently checked.’ 

“Those apple trees of ours haven’t had a full 
grown leaf on them this Spring and there are webs 
in the tops of them, too. That’s the work of 
Brown Tails all right.” 


108 THE BOY SCOUT FIEE FIGHTERS 


“The most interesting thing to me about these 
little codgers is the way they got here,” said 
Romper Ryan. “They came from Europe about 
1897, so this hook says. Came over on some young 
trees imported here. There couldn’t have been 
more than a couple of cocoons, but look how they 
have spread since that time. They were first seen 
in Somerville, Massachusetts, but now they are all 
over the New England States. They are only just 
getting into Vermont, though.” 

“This pamphlet says that the female moth flies 
a great distance,” said Jiminy Gordon, growing 
enthusiastic about the subject, “and that the fe- 
male Gipsy moth, which is another kind of pest, 
can’t fly at all. By jiminy, I thought all moths 
could fly, didn’t you? It also says that the female 
Brown Tail moth is attracted by strong lights and 
can be found fluttering aroimd arc lamps almost 
any warm — ” 

“Does it? Where? Where does it say they 
like strong light?” exclaimed Nipper Knapp. 

“Why, what the dickens struck you? It says so 
right here. Just listen: ‘These moths are at- 
tracted to strong light such as electric arc lights. 


THE PRIZE CONTEST 


109 


and as they fly at night it is often possible to se- 
cure many specimens around arc lamps in cities 
and towns during the latter part of June and the 
first half cf July. The — ’ ” 

“Whoop! That solves it! I got it, fellows! 
It’s as easy as rolling off a log. We win the $100 
prize sure !” exclaimed Nipper Knapp excitedly. 
Then while the boys were looking at him in utter 
amazement he continued. 

“Listen, fellows ! I was running mother’s elec- 
tric vacuum cleaner this morning before I started 
to school. I saw how easily the motor-driven fan 
sucked in everything in sight. I held the nozzle 
near a fly on the window pane and sipp — p-p, in 
went Mr. Fly. I thought right away that a big 
vacuum cleaner would make a fine moth catcher if 
we could only get near enough to the moths. And 
I even figured out a plan for a large one which 
wouldn’t cost very much and could he made mostly 
of wood. But I knew it was foolish ’cause we 
couldn’t get near the moths. Then — ” 

“Great! I see your plan. You are going to 
attract your moths by a light and then catch ’em 
with the suction cleaner,” exclaimed Bruce. 


110 THE BOY SCOUT FIEE FIGHTERS 


“Sure, and here’s how I’m going to do it. I’m 
going to take one of the automobile’s searchlights 
and shine it off on to some trees and then put the 
vacuum cleaner just under the light beams. Then, 
when Mr. Moth comes flying down the path of 
light and gets over the top of the sucker — zing, in 
he goes. Get my idea? Wait, I’ll draw a plan 
of the thing for you,” and, rushing over to the 
writing table in the corner, Nipper began to draw 
hastily while the scouts all crowded around him 
and watched. 

“There you are. There’s the whole plan of the 
thing. Easy to make and easy to operate and I 
guess it’s original all right.” 

The drawings traveled from hand to hand, each 
lad scrutinizing them carefully for some fault in 
the mechanical detail. 

“Jiminy, I think you’ve struck it,” exclaimed 
Gordon. 

“Struck it? Why, man, he’s got the flrst prize 
in his pocket right now,” insisted Romper as he 
looked over the plans. 

“Well, if it meets with your approval, fellows, 
let’s get busy right now and build our moth trap.” 


THE PEIZE CONTEST 


111 


“Eight-0. No more procras — something-or- 
other, as Bruce said the other day. We’ll get 
busy immediately,” said Bud Weir. 

“Well, first of all I think we should talk it over 
with Mr. Ford. He will be able to see fiaws in our 
plans where we can’t, you know,” said Nipper. 

“That was exactly my idea. And, by the way, 
did you notice that the pamphlet from the Mayor’s 
office named Mr. Ford among the members of the 
judging committee in this contest?” said Bruce. 

“Yes, I did,” said Bud, “and for that reason 
I think he would like to see us hoys try for the 
prize even though we don’t win anything. Gome 
on, we’ll go over and talk with him.” 

Bud was quite right. When Mr. Ford learned 
that the hoys had become interested in the fight 
against the Brown Tail moth he was delighted. 

“That’s the stuff, scouts. Take an interest in 
everything in the nature of a public improvement. 
If you grow up with that idea in mind you will 
make useful citizens,” he said, when the boys in- 
formed him that they had been studying the Brown 
Tail moth campaign and intended to try for one 
of the town’s prizes. 


112 THE BOY SCOUT FIEE FIGHTERS 


“Well, I'm afraid that it was more of a selfish 
motive that led us to take an interest. The troop 
needs one of those prizes to swell its treasury,” 
said Bruce. 

“Never mind, many of the noblest works in this 
world resulted from the selfish desire on the part 
of some one who w'anted to win some kind of a 
prize. But I won’t sermonize. Let me see what 
you have in mind as a moth exterminator,” said 
the Assistant Scoutmaster. 

The electrical engineer spent nearly half an hour 
in silent contemplation of Nipper’s drawings after 
the plan had been explained to him. Finally, his 
eyes sparkling with amusement, he laid the draw- 
ings onto his desk and remarked : 

“By Jove, you fellows are about the keenest 
observers I’ve met in some time. It all grew out 
of watching a vacuum cleaner, eh? Well, well, 
well, I think that idea is remarkable. I’m certain 
it will work. You should have it patented im- 
mediately. Make another set of drawings for me, 
Nipper, and I’ll send them down to my patent at- 
torney in Washington. Perhaps you may have 
struck it richer than you expect. You may be able 


THE PRIZE CONTEST 


113 


to put the device on the market. Who knows ? In 
the meantime get busy and build one and let me 
see how it works.” 

“We are going down and buy the material right 
away,” said Bruce, enthusiastically, “and father 
says he will have the suction fan made over in his 
shop. It can be built of sheet iron and won’t cost 
much, you know.” 

“All right, go ahead. I’ll come over to head- 
quarters now and then and watch you work,” said 
Mr. Ford. 


CHAPTER IX 


WOEEING TO WIN 

N ot since the days preceding the Firemen’s 
Tournament when the motorcycle fire de- 
partment was being outfitted had the scout 
engineers been busier than they were the follow- 
ing few weeks. Every afternoon after the acad- 
emy let out, and every evening they could spare 
from their studies was devoted to the construction 
of the moth trap. They worked with snap and 
vim, for upon the success of their product de- 
pended the possibility of a troop motorboat. 

And it was well that they had this enthusiasm, 
for a time limit had been set on the contest. Ac- 
cording to the information received from the 
Mayor’s office the contest would close the last Mon- 
day in June and the five days following would be 
devoted to testing the various methods and ap- 
pliances entered. With the assistance of Mr. Ford 
the lads had already made their entry, sending 


114 


WOEKING TO WIN 


115 


drawings and details of their device to the com- 
mittee of judges. But in spite of their fast work 
it was apparent that they would not complete 
their contrivance untU the middle or latter part of 
the week set for the test. 

They were determined that $100 of the $200 of- 
fered by the town should be added to the troop’s 
account in the Woodbridge bank, however, and 
when scouts take that attitude in any matter one 
can rest assured of a period of industry. They 
worked like beavers and the rap, rap, rap of ham- 
mers, the huzz-z-z of band and jigsaws and the 
hum-m of motors could be heard in their work- 
shop on the first floor of the headquarters building 
at almost any hour. 

Of course, the boys were not entirely sure that 
they would win first or even third prize, because 
there were any number of others competing for 
the same honors. Indeed, farmers and even busi- 
ness men in and around Woodbridge were experi- 
menting with chemical exterminators and various 
other ingenious devices and all of these would 
have an equal chance with the appliance invented 
by the boys. But the lads were sportsmen enough 


116 THE BOY SCOUT FIEE FIGHTEES 


to take their chances with the rest. Indeed, they 
even went so far as to stake some of the precious 
motor money on the result, for they took fifteen 
dollars from the Woodbridge bank to pay for the 
lumber and other material needed to build Nip- 
per’s big vacuum pest catcher. 

“If we don’t win that prize now all our chances 
for a motorboat are gone for sure,” said Babe 
Wilson when Bud Weir announced the withdrawal 
of part of the fund. 

“Well, that isn’t the way to look at it. Just 
say we are going to win the prize and then get 
busy and work for it,” insisted Bud, trying to in- 
stil confidence in the stout scout. 

Day by day the neatly finished boards grew to 
represent Nipper’s idea of a moth exterminator. 
And finally, after what seemed to the boys an un- 
usually long time, the suction fan arrived from 
Bruce’s father’s mill. It was already attached to 
a one-quarter horsepower electric motor, for Mr. 
Clifford knew that none of the motors in the scouts ’ 
workshop were small enough to be used on a fan 
with six-inch blades. By this time the lads had 
all but finished the big wooden trumpet and it was 


WOEKING TO WIN 117 

only necessary to set the fan, bolt the motor into 
place and give the whole thing a coat of paint. 

But already the last Monday of the month had 
passed and only a day or two remained in which 
the boys could test their machine before the judges. 
Day and night since the beginning of the week con- 
testants had been claiming the attention of the 
judges with their schemes for extermination. 
Most of these had been tried out and many were 
said to be very successful. On one or two occa- 
sions the scouts had gone out to look over these 
tests, but to their mind none of them looked 
as effective as the moth trap they were build- 
ing. 

On Thursday night Mr. Ford visited headquar- 
ters looking rather anxious, for he had heard very 
little from the boys during the last few days and 
he was afraid they were not going to put their 
machine together in time to appear before the 
judging committee with it. He was greatly re- 
lieved to find that the lads were about to put the 
motor and fan in place and he realized that this 
marked almost the last stage of their work. 

“Well, boys, it looks all right to me,” he said. 


118 THE BOY SCOUT FIEE FIGHTEES 


“When are you going to be ready for the official 
tryout ? ’ ’ 

“Just as soon as we can put the automobile 
lamp into place. We are building some iron 
brackets for that now. We’ll be all ready by to- 
morrow evening, I guess. That will give us one 
full day leeway. The tests can be conducted up 
to midnight Saturday, can’t they?” 

“Sure, I’ll see that the judges are ready for 
you. I have an engagement that may keep me a 
little bit late, but I’ll get there. Where are you 
going to test it?” 

“Out on the back road here; down by the bend 
opposite Chipman’s Hill,” said Nipper. 

“Fine, I’ll be there. Say, by the way, I was 
talking about your idea down town this evening 
and a reporter from the Journal heard me. He 
seemed very much interested when I told him 
about your work and he wants to come up and see 
the machine. He’ll probably be up some time 
to-morrow. Perhaps I can get him up to see the 
test. If I can I — Listen, is that some one com- 
ing? Sure enough, perhaps it is he. Open the 
door, Bruce.” 


WOEKING TO WIN 


119 


Bruce swung open the big double door and Be- 
gan, one of the reporters for the Woodbridge 
Journal and the local correspondent for the St. 
Cloud Call, entered. 

“Hello, boys,” he shouted good naturedly. 
“Heard you have a new wrinkle in moth catchers. 
Is that the machine? Looks mighty businesslike. 
Is it ready to test? Well, if there isn’t Mr. Ford. 
How are you? What do you think of the scout’s 
invention? How does it work? Whose idea is 
it. Where — ?” 

“Oh, goodness gracious, don’t ask ’em so fast,” 
said Bruce. “We’ll answer them one at a time 
and explain the machine to you if you’ll give us 
a chance.” 

‘ ‘ Sure. Excuse me. Go right ahead, ’ ’ said Bo- 
gan, his inquisitive blue eyes taking in everything 
in the room. 

Nipper had the honor of describing his own in- 
vention, which he did with no little pride. And 
evidently Bogan was impressed for, after cross- 
examining Mr. Ford and going into the device 
from every angle, he wrote a two-column story 
which appeared on the first page of the Journal 


120 THE BOY SCOUT FIRE FIGHTERS 


the following morning. Also he telephoned a 
story to the St. Cloud paper which the boys read 
the following afternoon. 

As soon as the Academy closed the next day 
the scouts hurried to headquarters, for they had 
a great deal to do before they could carry out the 
test that evening. Two or three attended to the 
work of removing one of the searchlights from 
“Old Nanc” and putting it into place on top of 
the moth catcher, while the rest of the boys strung 
a temporary line of wire from the headquarters’ 
switchboard to a point about two hundred yards 
up the road. They intended to conduct the test 
there and throw the searchlight into the trees on 
Chipman Hill across the valley. 

It was dinner time when the wires were in place 
and the scouts, after a last look about, all went 
home to get something to eat and to wait the com- 
ing of darkness. 

They began to return to headquarters about 
half past seven. Bruce, Nipper Knapp, and Ray 
Martin were the first to arrive and, to their sur- 
prise, they found at least two dozen people waiting 
outside of headquarters. 


WORKING TO WIN 


121 


“Well, what does this mean?” inquired Bruce 
of Nipper. 

“Well, I guess they read Bogan’s story in the 
Journal. He said we were going to have a test 
to-night, you know.” 

“Then we’re going to have a gallery of spec- 
tators! Oh, well, we don’t mind, do we, 
boys ? ’ ’ 

“You bet we don’t — if the thing will only 
work,” said Nipper. 

Soon, other scouts arrived and presently an au- 
tomobile rolled up to the door and four of the 
town’s councUmen climbed out. The party was 
composed of Mr. Bassett, Mr. Bates, Mr. Adams 
and Mr. Franklin, all members of the Mayor’s 
committee of judges. The lads were disappointed 
not to see Mr. Ford among them, but they felt 
confident that he would appear in time for the 
official test. 

The Councilmen looked over the moth trap with 
critical eyes and asked innumerable questions. 
Then finally Mr. Bassett, chairman of the com- 
mittee, spoke. 

“Well, Scouts, it surely looks like a good plan. 


122 THE BOY SCOUT FIRE FIGHTERS 


but will it catch ’em, that’s what we want to 
know?” 

“We are not certain of that ourselves, sir, but 
we’ll take it out and test it. Then we’ll surely" 
know,” said Nipper. In a few moments the moth 
catcher had been loaded into “Old Nanc” and the 
scouts, judges and about one hundred townfolk 
who had gathered to see the demonstration, started 
up Otter Creek road. By the time the boys had 
loaded the moth catcher into “Old Nanc” the en- 
tire troop was there. 

Twilight had gone and the stars were coming 
out when “Old Nanc” arrived at the appointed 
location. Every one was extremely curious and 
the moment the moth catcher was put on the 
ground men and women alike began to inspect the 
contrivance closely. It was fully twenty minutes 
before the boys could connect the wires to the 
searchlight and the motor. Then a scout was sent 
post haste back to headquarters to throw the 
switch and let the current into the new line. 

When this was done Nipper, who was in charge 
on this occasion, took his place beside the contri- 
vance. Scouts with staffs were detailed to keep 


WOEKING TO WIN 123 

the small crowd back and away from the front of 
the machine. 

“Are you all ready, Nipper?” said Bruce. 

“Sure,” said Nipper. Then, “say, is Mr. Ford 
here? I wish he was; I’d like to have him see 
this. Oh, Bruce, if it will only work ! I ’m getting 
as nervous as a cat.” He glanced toward the 
automobile where the four judges sat waiting. 

“Tut, tut, don’t get fussed,” said Bruce, trying 
hard to conceal his own suppressed excitement. 

“All right, here goes,” said Nipper as he turned 
the lamp switch, and a moment later the motor 
switch. 

Instantly a long arm of light reached out across 
the valley and focused on the heavy growth of elm 
trees on the opposite hill side. The motor began 
to hum and the fan to buzz loudly. Every one was 
attention. Every eye was riveted in the long shaft 
of light that stretched forth into the night. A 
minute they waited, two minutes, five minutes! 
Nothing happened! 

“Oh — this suspense is terrible,” groaned Nip- 
per. 

“You’re right, it is,” whispered Bruce. 


124 THE BOY SCOUT FIRE FIGHTERS 


Every scout felt the same way. Was it a fail- 
ure? Was their idea only visionary, after all? 
Oh, why didn’t something happen to relieve the 
tension. Why didn’t — 

“Look! There’s a moth,” said some one. 

“Where?” asked half a dozen breathlessly. 

‘ ‘ Out there ! Look ! Can’t you see him ? ’ ’ said 
others. 

Sure enough, coming down the long pathway 
of light was a solitary moth winging its fitful way 
toward the lamp. Now it was in the light and 
now it dodged out into the darkness. But always 
it returned a few feet nearer to the waiting scouts. 
It seemed irresistibly drawn toward the auto lamp. 

“Come on, come a little closer and we’ll have 
you,” whispered Nipper excitedly. 

On it came toward the upturned mouth of the 
vacuum. It was ten feet away, then eight, seven, 
six. Now it felt the air disturbance, for it began 
to flutter harder. Then — zipp! 

It was caught in the air current and in a twinkle 
disappeared down the yawning mouth of the 
sucker. 

A mighty cheer went up. But they were si- 


WOEKING TO WIN 


125 


lenced quickly when another moth appeared. But 
before this one had gone half way down the light 
shaft, two others came. Then came two more, 
then three or four, until they were fluttering in 
the white light like so many scraps of paper. And 
always when they reached a point over the open- 
ing of the sucker they were whisked out of sight 
like a flash, to be carried into the big bag at the 
other end of the machine. 

The crowd began to press in closer. The men 
were talking loudly now and congratulating the 
young engineers, and as for Nipper and his com- 
rades, well, they were pleased, and showed it by 
the smiles they wore. 

But just at this moment the sound of an auto- 
mobile coming from the direction of headquarters 
was heard and the next instant Mr. Ford’s ear 
dashed up. 

“Hello, boys, how’s she working?” he inquired 
and there was something in the tone of his voice 
that disturbed the scouts. 

“Why, it’s running in great shape. We have 
nearly half a bag full of moths now. What’s the 
matter?” queried Nipper. 


126 THE BOY SCOUT FIRE FIGHTERS 


“WeU, I have some bad news for you. I’m 
sorry, fellows, but your little machine isn’t as orig- 
inal as we thought it was. Here’s a telegram I 
received this evening from my attorneys in Wash- 
ington. They say that a machine like yours was 
invented in Germany several years ago and pat- 
ented in this country, too. They say several 
stories were printed about it in German and Amer- 
ican magazines at the time. That means that we 
can’t put it on the market as we had visions of 
doing and — !” 

“Well, well, that’s too had,” said deep- voiced 
Mr. Bassett, who had come out of the automobile 
with the other judges to hear what Mr. Ford had 
to say. “Too bad they can’t get a patent on it. 
I thought the lads had an A-1 business proposition 
here and I was about to make ’em a spot cash offer 
for an interest in it. Why, it’s the best thing 
we’ve seen in all the tests. No one has had any- 
thing anywhere near as good.” 

“But — ^but — ^you don’t mean we can’t win the 
contest,” stammered Nipper nervously, looking at 
Mr. Bassett. 

“Win! Win! Why, lads, you’ve won in a 


WOEKING TO WIN 


127 


walk. Hasn’t he, gentlemen? We haven’t seen 
anything as good as this, have we?” 

“We certainly have not,” said Mr. Adams. 
“Of course, the boys win. They get the $100 
prize, but that’s a mighty small amount for such 
ingenuity. If it wasn’t for that German inventor 
you could have made thousands of dollars out — ” 

“Pshaw, we only wanted first prize,” exclaimed 
Nipper Knapp. Then he shouted, “Hi, fel- 
lows, we win, and we’ll have our motorboat. 
Whoope-e-e-e ! Three cheers.” And all, includ- 
ing the men, joined in: “Hip— hip — ^hoo-ray!” 
the noise of which didn’t bother the moths in the 
least as they kept on fiuttering toward the light 
and disappearing into the trap. 


CHAPTER X 


S 


THE BOY FEOM ABIZONA 

I AY, fellows, I have the idea we — ” 

‘ Jiminy !” interrupted Jiminy Gordon, 
“Romper’s got an idea — first he ever had 
in his life. Come, spit it out, and if it isn’t any 
better than the rest we’ve been listening to, we’ll 
maul you — ^won’t we, fellows?” 

“Bet we will,” said Bud Weir. 

“We’ll duck him in the creek,” threatened Nip- 
per Knapp. 

“Come on there, young man, let us know what’s 
in your cranium. None of the rest of us has been 
able to get even the glimmer of an intelligent sug- 
gestion,” said Bruce Clifford. 

“Well, here it is,” said Romper, getting to his 
feet. “We’ll furnish a climax to our part of the 
Fourth of July celebration by presenting Wood- 
bridge with a city flag — we ’ll make the suggestion, 
get it approved by the village council, have old 
Granny Mastin make it and pres — ” 


128 


THE BOY FEOM ARIZONA 


129 


“Hi, hi, not so fast — ^you’re rushing along like 
a train of cars — trying to dodge that ducking, 
aren’t you? Now, slower — ^what’s this idea? 
What do you mean by a city flag? Never heard 
of such a thing before,” said Ray Martin. 

“Huh, you haven’t? Well, you’re a fine scout. 
Don’t you ever read the papers?” said Romper 
with disgust. 

“I’ve heard of it,” interrupted Bruce, “and it’s 
a bully suggestion. A number of American cities 
have flags — a distinctive ensign, just like patrol 
flags that we scouts have. New York has just 
adopted one, and I can’t see why Woodbridge 
shouldn’t have a flag of her own. Romper’s idea 
is a corker. We can suggest a flag and get the 
approval of, the Woodbridge council. Then on 
the Fourth we can present it to the city and have 
a grand old celebration. Romper deserves a vote 
of thanks instead of a ducking.” 

In truth, Romper had piloted Quarry Troop out 
of a most trying dilemma. Here is how matters 
stood before he suddenly became inspired: 
Woodbridge had been planning a safe and sane 
Fourth of July celebration, with a pageant, mu- 


130 THE BOY SCOUT FIRE FIGHTERS 


nicipal night fireworks and various other forms of 
a good time. All of which was to take place at 
the Firemen’s Tournament Field on the outskirts 
of the town. Quarry Troop had been invited to 
give an exhibition. 

So far as that was concerned, the boys were 
ready and willing to give exhibitions in almost any 
of the many branches of scouting at a moment’s 
notice, for they were all well trained. But the 
fact that the occasion was Independence Day and 
that there would be hundreds of strangers watch- 
ing them made the lads eager to give an extra 
good performance and end with a grand flourish — 
something spectacular. 

Now, just what this climax was to be required 
deep thought, and half a dozen of the older scouts 
of the troop had gathered under the big maple in 
front of their machine-shop headquarters on Otter 
Creek hill to ponder the situation. They had been 
sprawled in various attitudes in the shade of the 
old tree for more than half an hour, each one do- 
ing his utmost to think of something original. 
All kinds of suggestions were advanced, but none 


THE BOY FROM ARIZONA 


131 


was worth considering until Romper finally stirred 
up his flag idea. 

It did not take the wide-awake youngsters long 
to comprehend the spectacular element in this 
proposition, however, and presently they were talk- 
ing away at a furious rate, planning the details. 

“Look here, why not make the order of events 
like this,” said Bruce. “First we’ll pitch a real 
scout camp and then put up our wireless outfit, 
just as we had decided. Beforehand we’ll erect 
a big pole and a little pole to hold the aerial. 
‘Old Nanc’ can carry the outfit we have on the 
headquarters roof to Firemen’s Field and we can 
borrow one of the batteries from Dad’s electric 
truck and take that along to furnish our current. 

“Then, after the wireless is up and working, 
we can wind up the performance by presenting the 
town with a flag. That should make a real hit, 
eh, fellows? We’ll get Mr. Ford to make a speech 
from the reviewing stand and then, after the 
Mayor has answered, we’ll raise the flag on the 
big aerial pole and salute it. How do you like 
that for a programme?” 


132 THE BOY SCOUT EIRE FIGHTERS 


“Great,” exclaimed several of the scouts. 

“Bully,” said Bud. 

“Best ever,” asserted Nipper Knapp. “But 
say, here we Ve been talking about giving the town 
a flag, now what’s it to look like?” 

' ‘ J ove, that ’s right, ’ ’ said Ray Martin. ‘ ‘ What 
sort of a flag is it to be? Let’s make it green and 
purple, green to signify — ah — ” 

“Yes, let’s add pink, canary and sky blue,” in- 
terrupted sarcastic Babe Wilson, “what do you 
think this is going to be, a rainbow?” 

“WeU, I think we should talk the plan over 
with Mr. Ford and let him give our suggestion 
to the City Councilmen. They may have some 
ideas as to what the Woodbridge flag should look 
like,” said Bruce. 

“Sure,” said Ray. 

“All right. I’ll — ” 

“Say, fellows,” interrupted Romper in a whis- 
per, while he watched a solitary figure coming up 
the road, “here comes that chap we had at head- 
quarters yesterday, Dick what’s-his-name?” 

“Sure enough,” said Bud Weir. “Say, come 


THE BOY FROM ARIZONA 


133 


on fellows, let’s go inside; we don’t want a ’fraid 
eat like him hanging around with us.” 

“Aw, say, that isn’t right,” replied Bruce in 
an undertone. “Don’t snub a fellow like that. I 
think it was sort of childish for him to be afraid, 
but he looks like a pretty good chap, at that. ’ ’ 

But the lad in question evidently did not intend 
to “hang around.” Instead he made his way up 
Ottei Creek hill, passed the group in front of head- 
quarters with a nod and a cheerful “howdy” and 
continued on his way. He was a short, thickset 
youngster of about sixteen and he walked with 
a peculiar stride, for his legs were slightly bowed. 

Dick Austin was his name and he had come from 
his home in Arizona to spend his Summer vaca- 
tion with an aunt in Woodbridge. 

Several of the scouts had met him at various 
places in the village since he had been in town, 
and had tried to make his acquaintance, but he 
seemed to keep to himself a great deal. The day 
before the Fourth of July conference under the 
maple, however, two of the lads had encountered 
him on the street, and out of pure kindness of 


134 THE BOY SCOUT FIRE FIGHTERS 

heart had invited him to accompany them to head- 
quarters. 

But much to their surprise Dick did not like the 
machine shop at all. He objected to the hum of 
motors and he jumped every time he saw the 
flashes from the wireless spark gap. He refused 
to try a ride on the tandem seat of one of the 
troop’s motorcycles, and when he received a slight 
shock after several of the boys had persuaded him 
to take hold of the handles of a static electric ma- 
chine, he became thoroughly frightened. 

“Look year,” he said with a decided southern 
accent, “I don’t like this year ’lectric business no 
how. Hit’s dangerous stuff an’ I’m afeard o’ 
hit. Yo’ see I hain’t been used t’ hit down whar 
I lived an’ I cain’t feel comfortable with a lot of 
machinery so close to me. No, sirree, I’d rather 
leg it out o’ here and git into t’ open.” 

Whereupon he left headquarters without wait- 
ing to listen to the scouts, who tried to explain 
that it was only high-tension electricity that was 
not at all dangerous and that there was no current 
of that nature at headquarters. 

Dick’s attitude had quite surprised the Quarry 


THE BOY FROM ARIZONA 


135 


Scouts. How a normal boy could fail to be inter- 
ested in machinery, know nothing about electricity, 
and actually refuse to ride on a motorcycle be- 
cause the throbbing engine scared him, was more 
than they could understand. They quickly de- 
cided that he was a coward and had already lost 
respect for him, as was evident from the caustic 
comments made by the group under the maple 
after he had passed. 

“Huh,” said Ray Martin, “just imagine a fel- 
low getting fidgety over a motor; regular girl.” 

“It does seem queer,” said Bruce. Then get- 
ting to his feet and brushing the dust from his 
trousers he continued: 

“Say, fellows, if we are going to try this flag 
stunt I think it’s up to us to get a wiggle on. 
We’ve only two weeks to do the work in, you 
know. I’m going to see Mr. Ford now and talk it 
over with him. Who wants to go along?” 

“I’ll go,” said Bud Weir. 

“So ’ll I,” added Romper. 

“All right, come along,” replied Bruce. And 
five minutes later three motorcycles were scooting 
out toward the hydro-electric plant where Mr. 


136 THE BOY SCOUT FIEE FIGHTEES 


Ford, the Quarry Troop’s Assistant Scoutmaster, 
was superintendent. 

Two days later three lads in scout uniforms 
were to be seen in the ante-room of the Council 
Chamber in the Woodbridge Town Hall. They 
composed the Flag Committee of the Quarry 
Troop and as they sat there in the straight-backed 
chairs they looked to be the most uncomfortable 
trio in all the State of Vermont. 

And they were imcomfortable. You see, Bruce, 
Bud and Eomper were waiting patiently the de- 
cision of the Councilmen, who were convening be- 
hind the closed doors of the room to their left. 
It was the occasion of the regular weekly meeting 
of the body, but the fact that the town fathers 
were debating the adoption of a town flag made 
the session the most important in the history of 
Woodbridge, so far as the three scouts were con- 
cerned. 

“Huh, we’ve been sitting here just fifteen min- 
utes; seems like fifteen hours,” said Bruce in a 
husky whisper. His eyes were on the big regu- 
lator clock that ticked away solemnly on the wall 
across the room. 


THE BOY FEOM ARIZONA 


137 


As for Bud and Romper, they remained silent, 
gazing nervously out the window. A little later 
Romper said: “Maybe they’re going to turn us 
down and — ” 

He was interrupted by the opening of the swing- 
ing doors that led to the Council Chamber. Mr. 
Bennet, Mayor Worthington’s secretary, ap- 
peared. 

“Scouts,” he said, saluting, “the Mayor would 
like the pleasure of your presence in the Council 
Room.” 

It required every ounce of self-control the 
scouts could summon to walk into that sanctum. 
How they managed to travel the space from one 
room to the other without stumbling over rugs or 
doorsills will ever be a mystery to them. 

Presently, however, they found themselves at 
the lower end of the long mahogany table at which 
the nine officials were seated. At the head was 
the dignified Mayor, while to the right and left 
were ranged the councilmen, all of whom the hoys 
recognized when finally they became more accus- 
tomed to the surroundings. 

“Scouts,” said the Mayor, and at the sound of 


138 THE BOY SCOUT FIEE FIGHTERS 


his voice each lad saluted, “we have considered 
your plan to present the town of Woodbridge with 
a flag, and we have unanimously voted it an ex- 
cellent idea. Moreover, lads, we have adopted 
the design and colors of the proposed emblem.” 

This good news helped to dispel the scouts’ 
nervousness. They were too attentive now to 
think of being timid. 

“We have decided,” continued Mr. Worthing- 
ington, “that the design shall be a blood red flag 
with a city seal in the center of it. It shall be red 
because that is the color that signifies strength, 
fire, virility, and all that is healthy and normal. 
And we shall follow the lead of other cities and 
have an oflBcial seal of the community; for the 
seal, we have decided on the pine tree of Vermont 
in the upper portion and a quarry derrick, signi- 
fying the marble industry of Woodbridge, below. 
How do you like that, boys?” 

“Wonderful,” exclaimed the three lads in 
unison. 

“Glad to hear it. Now good luck to you and I 
hope our Fourth of July celebration is a big sue- 


THE BOY FEOM AEIZONA 139 

cess,” said the town’s chief, dismissing them with 
a bow. 

The scouts were all smiles as they descended 
the broad steps of the town hall and started down 
the gravel path to the street, where they had left 
their motorcycles. 

“Jove, we’ll have some celebration, eh, fel- 
lows?” said Eomper. 

“You bet we will,” assured Bud. 

“Yes, but we have a lot of work to do yet be- 
fore everything will be ready,” stated Bruce. 
“We’ll go over to Granny Mastin’s right away 
and find out if she’ll make the flag for us. We’ll 
get Nipper to drawn a design for her. Then we’ll 
have to come back and get the silk and whatever 
else she wants to do the work with. And say, 
fellows, we’ll have to erect our poles at Firemen’s 
Field, do you realize that? We’ll be mighty busy 
for a while — hello, look who’s inspecting our mo- 
torcycles.” 

Bud and Eomper looked up in time to see Dick 
Austin, the boy from Arizona, scrutinizing the 
three machines that were lined up at the curb. 


140 THE BOY SCOUT FIRE FIGHTERS 


“Howdy,” lie said as they came up. “I was 
just eyeing these here critters. Look blamed fero- 
cious, they do.” 

“Would you like to ride on the tandem behind 
me ? ’ ’ asked Bruce. 

“Who, me?” exclaimed Dick. “No, sirree, yo’ 
cain’t git me to straddle that there animal. Ef 
’twas a hoss I’d be tickled to death, but you cain’t 
git a snorting machine under me. ’ ’ 

“Huh,” said Bud, contemptuously, when Dick 
was out of earshot, “that sounds like a blutf to me. 
Bet he’s afraid of a horse, too.” 

“Oh, I don’t know,” said Bruce, as he started 
his engine, “he has the legs of a horseman and 
he comes from Arizona, you know.” 

“Yes, but he’s a scared cat,” asserted Romper 
as the trip got under way. 


CHAPTER XI 


THE COURAGE OF A COWAED 

W OODBRIDGE was a profusion of bunt- 
ing and streamers on Independence 
Day. Almost every building, from 
the meanest little stores on Stone Street to the 
big business blocks on Willow and State Streets, 
was gay with flags and emblems. The thorough- 
fares were thronged with people, too. Summer 
folk from the cities, mingled with the easily dis- 
tinguished farmers who had come to town for the 
celebration, and these with the residents made the 
population of the town almost double its normal 
size. 

Soon after the dinner hour the crowd all began 
to move in one direction, for everybody was 
headed for the exhibition grounds. 

Firemen’s Field was an ideal place for the cele- 
bration. It was in a broad unfenced stretch of 
valley bottom on the outskirts of town and a 


141 


142 THE BOY SCOUT FIRE FIGHTERS 


grandstand had been erected there for the Fire- 
men’s Tournament in the spring, so well remem- 
bered by the “smoke-eaters” of Quarry Troop. 
A deep woods stretched along the west side of the 
field and Otter Creek formed the southern boun- 
dary, while the highway to St. Cloud ran across 
its northern extreme. There were several acres 
of broad green lawn in front of the grandstand, 
and the only obstructions in the whole area were 
the tall and short poles the scouts had erected. 
These, however, had been placed so as not to in- 
terfere with the dancing and other events sched- 
uled for the day. 

The grandstand was filled to capacity long be- 
fore the hour set for the beginning of the cere- 
monies, and by the time the Mayor and various 
other officials had entered their special reviewing 
stand hundreds of people were massed in a semi- 
circle about the field. 

To one side of the entrance was a group of gay 
colored tents or marquees, about which were 
crowded hundreds of tiny tots, all arrayed in the 
gaudy carnival dress. Some were ladies of the 
French courts, some were garbed in Colonial cos- 


THE COURAGE OF A COWARD 143 


tumes and some were masquerading as bears or 
as wolves. One group was wearing the wooden 
shoes and frocks of Holland, another group was 
costumed as Russian peasants and still others 
were dressed to represent German, Swedish, 
Danish and Irish folk. The Campfire Girls were 
there, too, in a special little marquee by them- 
selves, and to the right of their location was the 
Quarry Troop, every lad in full uniform, and look- 
ing very important. 

“Corking crowd, eh, Bruce?” said Nipper 
Knapp, who stood watching the bank of faces in 
the grandstand. 

“You bet it is. Say, we’ll have to do our finest. 
Not a hitch to-day, fellows,” said Bruce. 

“Bight- 0 ,” asserted half a dozen members of 
the troop enthusiastically. 

Then every one became silent, for the director 
of the carnival had taken the center of the field. 
A moment he stood there and surveyed his per- 
formers, then he gave the signal for the music, 
and presently the grand march was under way. 

Hundreds of youngsters ranging from tiny 
tots who were to take part in a Mother Goose 


144 THE BOY SCOUT FIEE FIGHTEES 


scene, to the stalwart scouts themselves, formed 
in line and paraded around the field, passing in 
front of the stands. 

A very impressive scene representing the sign- 
ing of the Declaration of Independence w^as the 
first number on the program. In this, several 
academy boys took the parts of John Hancock, 
John Adams and John Dickinson, and the mem- 
bers of the First Congress. 

Immediately following came the folk dances, 
in which scores of pretty girls in costumes ex- 
ecuted the national dances of the various foreign 
countries. These little maids tripped lightly to 
the fantastic dance music of the people of the old 
world for fully twenty minutes and as the last 
group began the final steps of a pretty Scotch 
fantasy Bruce stood up and mustered the scouts 
in line. 

“We’re next, fellows. Now do your finest. 
Are the tents ready and the rest of the equip- 
ment in order? How’s ‘ Old Nanc’?” he called. 

But it was needless to ask the question, for the 
lads had been ready for fully fifteen minutes. 

“How about the flag?” asked Bruce, as the lit- 


THE COURAGE OF A COWARD 145 


tie girls danced their way off the field and the 
hand changed to a martial air. 

“All safe,” said Romper, who had been ap- 
pointed custodian of the precious bunting. 

“Fine!” said the leader of the Owl patrol. 

Bugler Benson sounded the call, “Forward, 
scouts,” and the brown-clad colunm started to- 
ward the tall pole near the center of the field, 
where Mr. Ford, in Scoutmaster’s uniform, stood 
waiting. They marched in scout order with “Old 
Nanc,” laden with the wireless equipment trun- 
dling slowly behind them. 

For a moment the lads stood in line in front 
of the grandstand and saluted, then at a word 
from Mr. Ford they broke ranks, and presently 
a scout camp was growing before the surprised 
spectators’ eyes. Tents were erected in a jiffy, 
scouts were scuttling here and there with camp 
equipment, cooking utensils and firewood.' Some 
were mixing dough, some frying bacon, some cut- 
ting wood and some carrying pails of water. 
Within ten minutes a model scout camp had ap- 
peared in the center of Firemen’s Field. 

But presently the spectators discovered that 


146 THE BOY SCOUT FIRE FIGHTERS 


they were doing something even more interesting 
than building camp. A half dozen scouts under 
the direction of Bruce were unloading queer look- 
ing sections of electrical apparatus from the 
troop’s home-made automobile. 

While this was being done, Bud Weir strapped 
on his climbing spurs and began to climb the tall 
pole, carrying the end of a good strong manila 
halyard. This he wove through the pulley at the 
top and soon the scouts were hoisting one end of 
the wireless aerials up to him. This was quickly 
adjusted, as was the machinery on the ground, 
and in a few minutes the wireless station had been 
assembled and Bruce was at the key, flashing 
crackling messages into the air. 

Applause came from the grandstand, but before 
the clapping died away, the lads lined up in front 
of the taller of the two poles again and Romper 
produced a roll of shining red silk from one of the 
tents. With this under his arm he took his place 
before the flagpole and waited, one hand upon 
the new halyard, which still remained in the pulley. 
At this sign Mr. Ford stood out and, removing his 


THE COUEAGE OF A COWAED 147 


campaign hat, faced the spectators and the re- 
viewing stand. 

“Honored Mayor, ladies and gentlemen,” he 
said, “the hoys of Quarry Troop No. 1 have been 
granted the privilege by the Town Council to pre- 
sent Woodbridge with a city flag. It is our — ” 

The Assistant Scoutmaster paused here. In 
the crowd before him he saw scores of frightened 
faces. He saw men pointing and heard women 
cry out in terror. He saw children cower and 
scamper for the protection of the grandstand. 

Instantly all turned and looked across the field 
toward the strip of woods that bordered it, and 
what they saw paralyzed them with horror. 

There on the edge of the wood that bordered 
the west of the field, shaking his massive head 
menacingly and pawing the ground, stood Ponto, 
the great black and white bull of the Lyman stock 
farm. The most savage animal in Woodbridge 
had broken through his barrier and, attracted by 
the applause of the people, had wandered through 
the woods to Firemen’s Field. And the wrath 
that kindled in his wicked eyes as he stood and 


148 THE BOY SCOUT FIRE FIGHTERS 


watched the assemblage made even the bravest 
scout shudder. For a moment the lads stood as 
if robbed of their presence of mind by the unfa- 
miliar emergency. But the next instant they were 
stirred to action by the rush of some one running 
and a cry : 

“Quick, scouts, take care of the children. Get 
these year kiddies out o’ danger. I’ll ’tend to 
the hull.” 

This was from a stocky lad with legs slightly 
bowed, who pushed through the group of hoys 
and laid hold of the halyard of the flagpole. In 
an instant he had whipped out his Jack-knife and 
severed the rope. Then he began to haul it out 
of the pulley overhead, meanwhile shouting for 
the scouts to quiet the already panic-stricken 
crowd and hurry the children out of danger. 

Bruce gave one look at the hoy from Arizona 
and in his eyes saw something that told him he 
was master of the situation. Then he turned to 
the scouts. 

“He can handle the bull, boys,” he cried; 
“come, work fast, get the children back.” 

And the next instant the scouts, armed with 


THE COUEAGE OF A COWAED 149 


their staffs, began to herd the tiny tots behind 
the grandstand, leaving Dick Austin alone in the 
center of the field. 

The lad from Arizona was working frantically. 
With his knife he cut the flag from the rope and 
with the line thus freed began to weave a bow- 
line knot into one end. This he made to serve as 
the ring for a lariat, and presently he had a fif- 
teen-foot loop spread out before him on the 
ground. Then with his eyes on the enraged bull 
he coiled the rest of the rope into his left hand. 
And all the time he worked his plucky face wore a 
grim smile. 

As for the bull, he stood there grunting and 
pawing the sod furiously, his fiery eyes fastened 
on the lone figure. 

But it was not in Dick Austin’s make-up to flee 
from a bull. Instead, he shouted : 

“Come on, you old son-of-a-gun,” and he actu- 
ally kicked the red silk flag into the air to tantalize 
the animal. This was too much for the beast. 
When he saw the red flag flaunted at him by this 
puny human he let out a bellow and charged. 

Dick was on his toes in an instant. With a 


150 THE BOY SCOUT FIRE FIGHTERS 


twist of his hand he started the loop circling about 
his head, while his eyes were fastened on the en- 
raged animal charging toward him with lowered 
head. 

Nearer he came ! Dick could see the red in his 
distended nostrils ; he could see the cords and ar- 
teries in his massive neck and shoulders stand- 
ing out under his velvety skin. He could feel the 
ground tremble under the pounding of his heavy 
feet. The next instant those short, ugly, black- 
tipped horns might be buried into his flesh and 
he would be tossed into the air. And if he 
dropped limp and helpless he would be stamped 
to death. The beast was twenty feet away now. 
His head dropped lower for the final plunge. He 
lunged his great body forward. 

But the boy was not there! Like a panther, 
Dick had leaped behind the flag-pole, but not un- 
til he had hurled the whistling loop straight at 
the charging animal’s feet. Then with a quick 
turn he snubbed the line about the pole. 

The next instant the great beast’s legs were 
jerked out from under him and with a roar of rage 



He lunged his great body forward. 


(Page 150) 




THE COUEAGE OF A COWARD 151 


he turned a complete somersault and crashed to 
the ground, every bit of his wrath jarred out of 
him by the stunning impact. 

In a twinkle Dick came from behind the pole 
and with the lariat still in his hands rushed to- 
ward the prostrate animal. Two dexterous twists 
were all he made and the hind legs of the bull were 
lashed as fast as the front ones and savage Ponto 
was helpless. 

After the members of the Quarry Troop had 
viewed the municipal fireworks in front of Town 
Hall that night they gathered at headquarters to 
discuss the day’s events before going home. But 
there was only one event to be discussed, and that 
was on the lips of every individual in town. 

“By Jove, I called him a coward,” said Bud 
Weir. “But if there’s a fellow among us who 
has as much sand as he had — — ^well, by 
cracky, there isn’t any.” 

“Well,” said Bruce thoughtfuly. “It’s this 
way — ah — er — I mean — Aw, shucks, I can’t ex- 
press it the way I want to, but he surely didn’t 
shirk the duty for which he was prepared. He 


152 THE BOY SCOUT FIRE FIGHTERS 


told me this morning that lassoing cattle (roping 
he calls it) and riding horses is part of a day’s 
work where he comes from.” 

“I don’t care if he is skittish about machin- 
ery,” said Romper Ryan emphatically, “I’m go- 
ing to see that Dick Austin becomes a scout before 
he leaves Woodbridge; he’s the kind of a chap we 
need. ’ ’ 


CHAPTER XII 

THE SCOUT LIFE GUARDS ’ BEACH PATROL 

B ruce and two companions, Romper Ryan 
and Jiminy Gordon, were passing the Post 
OflSce just as Morton McCabe, the little 
old man who delivered mail in the southern dis- 
trict of Woodbridge, came down the broad stone 
steps. 

“How are you, Mr. McCabe?” saluted Bruce. 
“Hello, boys; fine, fine, thanks. Say, did you 
get your letter?” said the diminutive postman, 
who always talked very fast and tried to crowd 
as many sentences as he could into a single breath. 
“Letter?” demanded Bruce, “what letter?” 
“Why, I left a letter up at headquarters for 
you this morning. It was addressed to you, care 
of Quarry, Troop No. 1, of Woodbridge. Came 
from Old Harbor Beach, Maine. Saw the post- 
mark. Big letter. Looked important.” 

“Is that so? Thank you, Mr. McCabe,” said 
Bruce. 


153 


154 THE BOY SCOUT FIEE FIGHTERS 


“Who do you know at Old Harbor Beach, 
Bruce?” asked Romper. 

“That’s what I was wondering. I can’t figure 
it out. The letter must be meant for all of us, 
or else it wouldn’t have been mailed to head- 
quarters. Come on, fellows, we’ll see what it is.” 

Ten minutes later the three lads arrived at 
headquarters. There was the big blue envelope 
sticking under the door. Bruce picked it up and 
ripped it open, while his companions crowded 
around and looked over his shoulder. Hastily the 
patrol leader’s eyes ran through the first para- 
graph. Then, as if he could not believe what he 
had read, he started to go over it again. 

“Out loud, out loud. Don’t be so blamed 
stingy,” said Romper, who was eager to hear the 
news it contained. 

“I — er — aw, say, this must be a joke. Gee, if 
it isn’t, it’s the biggest piece of luck the troop has 
had in some time. Listen, fellows : 

Bruce Clifford, Chief of the Motor Cycle Fire Department, 
Woodhridge, Vt, 

My Dear Bruce : From what I have heard of your motor- 
cycle fire department I have come to the conclusion that the 
members of your troop are exactly the boys I need to help me 


LIFE GUAEDS’ BEACH PATROL 155 


this summer. I would like to hire the services of ten scouts 
to take charge of a motorcycle life-saving corps I am organ- 
izing at Old Harbor Beach. 

I own all the bathing concessions here and we have a strip 
of the finest beach along the Atlantic Coast. It is fifteen miles 
long, just as firm as concrete. The bathing here is treacher- 
ous at times, however, and there have been several lives lost 
so far this summer. I do not care to have any more such 
accidents and I want a good crew of life savers to help me. 
This crew will cover the beach on especially designed motor- 
cycles. I know you scouts are trained in first aid work and 
are well fitted for these duties, and that is why I am eager 
to have your services. Of course I want only the ten best 
swimmers in the troop. 

It is necessary that you come to Old Harbor Beach at once, 
as the International Automobile Races will be held here next 
week, and these with several large conventions will bripg thou- 
sands of people to Old Harbor from now until the end of the 
summer. I will pay transportation for ten scouts and will 
board you and pay each of you $5.00 a week. If these terms 
are satisfactory, wire me at once and I will send a check to 
cover expenses. 

Very truly yours, 

J. Arthur Herrick, 

President, Old Harbor Improvement Association. 

“By Jiminy, what do you think of that?” ex- 
claimed Gordon in amazement. 

“Jove, I can’t believe it. Seems like a — ^well, 
I think some one is making fun of us,” said Bruce. 
“Wait, I’ll read it over again and see if I can see 
a joker in it somewhere.” Once more he read it 
aloud, while Romper and Jiminy Gordon listened. 


156 THE BOY SCOUT FIEE FIGHTEES 


“Sounds mighty good on second reading,” as- 
serted Eomper. 

“It sure does,” exclaimed Gordon enthusias- 
tically, “and just think, fellows, if we go we can 
see the Internationals. Jove, I was looking over 
the entry list in the paper this morning. The best 
automobile drivers in the world will be there — 
St. Clare, DuBlan, Osterhout, and — and — ^best of 
all, Dan Dacy, the American, who has been smash- 
ing all of the old records. The papers say Dacy 
is the favorite. He’s going to make a new rec- 
ord in everything from five to fifteen miles and 
trim the Frenchmen and the Germans an — ” 

“Oh, say, quit! We’re not there yet. Gee, 
you almost make me believe I’m really going,” 
said Eomper. 

“But what’s to prevent?” demanded Jiminy. 

“Well — ^well — I don’t know, unless this letter is 
a joke.” 

“We’ll find out if it is or not by sending a wire 
immediately, ’ ’ said Bruce, who had been thinking 
the situation over. 

“Yes, but first why not get the troop together 
and see if we can get ten good swimmers whose 


LIFE GUARDS’ BEACH PATROL 157 


parents will let them go? We can call a meeting 
this afternoon and send our telegram to-night,” 
said Romper. 

“Right-o; good suggestion,” said Jiminy. 

“And I really think we should submit the whole 
thing to Mr. Ford and get his opinion before we 
take definite action. If some one is joshing us, 
he’ll be able to see through it all right.” 

But subsequent events proved conclusively that 
the letter was not a joke. The scouts called their 
meeting immediately, and after a careful study 
of the troop’s merit badge list, and a painful 
process of elimination, the ten oldest and best 
fitted scouts of the troop were selected to become 
members of the life-saving crew. Then Bruce, 
Romper and Jiminy took the letter to Mr. Ford 
and gave him the whole details of the case. 

Mr. Ford read the letter slowly, carefully con- 
sidering every detail. Then he laid it down and 
removed his glasses. 

“Well, boys, if you want my opinion on the 
whole matter, I would say that you were quite the 
luckiest lot of chaps I’ve ever heard of. I spent 
a summer in Old Harbor Beach three years ago. 


158 THE BOY SCOUT FIRE FIGHTERS 

and, of course, I met Mr. Herrick. He is quite the 
finest man I ever hope to come in contact with; 
big, stout and jovial, and as good-hearted as can 
be. If your parents will let you, I would advise 
every one to accept the offer.” 

“Cracky, we are in luck, fellows. I move we 
telegraph our acceptance right away,” said 
Romper. 

“I move we turn the matter over to Mr. Ford 
and let him telegraph. He’s our Scoutmaster, 
and I’m sure Mr. Herrick would feel better about 
the whole thing if he found he was dealing with a 
grown-up person,” said Bruce. 

“Right,” said Jiminy and Romper. 

“Well, if that’s how the wind lies. I’ll do it,” 
said Mr. Ford; “only you boys consult your 
parents first and tell me what they have to 
say.” 

“Whoop-e-e, we will see the Internationals!” 
exclaimed Jiminy. 

“Yes, and we get a month at the seashore. 
When’ll we start?” demanded Romper. 

“Just as soon as the money arrives. About 


LIFE GUARDS BEACH PATROL 159 


Tuesday, I should guess,” said Bruce, as the lads 
left Mr. Ford’s house. 

It is hardly natural for ten thoroughly healthy 
scouts to be confined to the restricted limits of 
a day coach for four solid hours without becom- 
ing extremely weary of the monotony of it all. 
Bruce and the rest of the members of Quarry 
Troop No. 1 became quite restive before the long 
journey to Old Harbor Beach ended. Indeed, the 
lads were thoroughly pleased when, after the en- 
gine whistle had emitted a prolonged shriek, the 
conductor poked his head in at the door and 
drawled — ^“Old Har-b-o-r — , Old Harbor Beach! 
Next stop Port Junction.” 

“Thank goodness we’re here at last,” exclaimed 
Nipper Knapp, as he began to gather his luggage 
together. 

“That’s the best news I’ve heard to-day,” in- 
sisted Bud Weir, swinging his suitcase to his 
shoulder and crowding out into the aisle with the 
rest of the scouts. 

A stout good-natured looking man with a little 
five-year-old girl in a bathing suit perched on his 


160 THE BOY SCOUT FIEE FIGHTERS 


shoulder and a big collie dog romping by his side, 
was easily the most conspicuous individual on the 
long station platform. Bruce caught sight of him 
as he descended the steps of the coach. 

“That’s Mr. Herrick, or I’m a duffer at guess- 
ing, ’ ’ he said to Romper, who was just behind him. 

“You’re not a duffer, for here he comes to wel- 
come us,” said Ray Martin, who had overheard 
the remark. 

Indeed, as soon as the big man saw the group 
of uniformed scouts leaving the train he hurried 
toward them. 

‘ ‘ Hello, there, boys. I ’m the one you ’re looking 
for, I guess. My name ’s Herrick. ’ ’ 

“My name is Bruce Clifford, Mr. Herrick,” said 
the patrol leader, extending his hand, “and these 
are the life-savers you have been looking for. ’ ’ 

“Good, I’ll learn your names later, boys, and if 
I don’t. I’ll give you names that’ll be just as 
good, won’t I, May? Boys, this is my daughter 
May. Now come along with me to my office on 
the pier and I’ll outline just what my plans are. 
I want you to go on guard as soon as you can, for 
the crowd at the beach is getting larger with 


LIFE GUARDS’ BEACH PATROL 161 


every train that pulls in. The Internationals 
start to-morrow, you know. The racing cars are 
all here. For a week past they have been tear- 
ing up and down the beach from sunrise until the 
bathers begin to turn out for their morning dip. 
Sort of tuning up for the big events.” 

“Will we be able to see the races?” asked Gor- 
don eagerly. 

“I don’t see why not. They start to-morrow 
and will last for three days,” replied Mr. Herrick. 

“Won’t that he great,” exclaimed several as 
they fell in line behind Mr. Herrick and accom- 
panied him through the resort toward the pier. 

Old Harbor Beach was like all other high-class 
watering places along the Atlantic Coast, only a 
great deal larger than the average. At least a 
dozen tremendous hotels were located on the 
heights back of the beach. There were the usual 
number of shore restaurants and candy stores, too, 
and a board walk that stretched along the entire 
waterfront. Below this was a great wide beach 
of pure white sand as firm as a well-paved road, 
and fairly crowded with bathers. This beach was 
known throughout the world as an automobile race 


162 THE BOY SCOUT FIRE FIGHTERS 

course, and many a speed record had been made 
on it. 

“So this is the famous Old Harbor Beach race 
course?” said Jiminy, as he eyed the straight- 
away. 

“That’s what it is, son, and if you’ll look away 
down there you’ll see a number of low green sheds. 
Those are the garages where the speed maniacs 
store their high-powered cars.” 

“Jiminy!” whispered Gordon, thoroughly 
awed. 

Mr. Herrick’s ofiSce was in the big white build- 
ing at the shore end of the steel recreation pier. 
Without any ceremony he ushered the lads into 
the room and had them make themselves at home. 
This invitation the scouts accepted by promptly 
taking a seat on whatever was handiest, includ- 
ing window sills, tables and even the floor; Mr. 
Herrick sat down at his desk, while the collie 
curled up at his feet and his daughter took her 
place on his knee. 

“Scouts,” he said, “there have been three very 
sad occurrences at the beach this Summer, and 
while in each case the fault lay entirely with the 


LIFE GUAEDS’ BEACH PATEOL 163 


bather, I feel very much disturbed by the acci- 
dents, and I don’t want any more to take place 
this year. I have called upon you boys to help me 
prevent them. Eemember, from now on you lads 
are the guardians of the lives of bathers at Old 
Harbor Beach.” He spoke the last sentence very 
impressively. 

“Here’s my plan,” he continued after a pause. 
“Last Winter I was out to California, and at 
one of the beaches I saw a motorcycle life-saving 
corps that had been organized by an old-time life- 
saver. It pleased me so much that I decided to 
have the same sort of a patrol on my beach. I 
ordered two motorcycles built along the lines of 
the machines used there. They arrived here two 
days ago and are now in their garages waiting 
for you. These cars are equipped with all kinds 
of life-saving and first-aid devices, including a 
stretcher, a pulmotor, bandages and medicines of 
all kinds. There’will be two men to a motorcycle ; 
a driver and a man on the tandem seat, ready to 
spring from the wheel and plunge-into the surf and 
make a rescue. He should be the best swimmer of 
the pair, of course. 


164 THE BOY SCOUT FIEE FIGHTERS 


“All along the beach I have had signal towers 
built, each of which will be manned by a scout. 
He will keep constant vigil, and, at the first sign 
of trouble in his vicinity, he will flash a warning 
to the next tower. The scouts in that tower will 
flash the signal on until it reaches the lookout at 
the garage. Then the motorcycle will be off to 
the scene of trouble, tearing down the beach at 
a mile-a-minute clip. How does that strike you? ” 

“Great,” exclaimed several of the scouts in 
unison. 

“Well, don’t get the idea that it’s all fun. In- 
deed, it’s mighty serious business. I’ll have you 
know. On your quickness to respond to an alarm 
and upon your bravery and cool-headedness in a 
crisis will depend a human life, perhaps several of 
them,” said Mr. Herrick. 

“We realize that,” said Bruce soberly. 

‘ ‘ I guess you ’ll do, all right. I ’ve heard a great 
deal about you Vermont scouts and I guess you’ll 
be able to do what I ask of you and do it right. 
Now, if you are ready, we’ll go down to one of the 
garages ; there are two of them. If you will look 
out of the window you will see one about a mile 


LIFE GUAEDS’ BEACH PATKOL 165 

down the beach there. The other is a mile to the 
north of us. The distance between the two sta- 
tions includes all of the beach reserved for bath- 
ers and it will give each machine about a mile to 
patrol. 

‘ ‘ The garages have just been completed. Each 
will contain sleeping accommodations for five 
boys. You will divide your crew into two patrols, 
with a leader for each patrol. One patrol will oc- 
cupy the north station and the other the south. 
There will be two life savers and three watchmen 
to each patrol. Do you understand?” 

“Indeed, we do,” said Bruce. 

“Good,” said Mr. Herrick. Then, after send- 
ing his little daughter out on to the beach to romp 
with her collie companion, he continued: “Come 
on and we’ll inspect your new quarters.” And, 
with Mr. Herrick in the lead the scouts filed out 
upon the pier and down a long iron stairway to the 
beach below. 

Through crowds of bathers the lads made their 
way until they arrived at a long, low structure 
built near the board walk. This was the south sta- 
tion. 


166 THE BOY SCOUT FIEE FIGHTEES 


Carpenters and painters were putting the fin- 
ishing touches on to the building, and it looked 
to the scouts as if they were going to have a capital 
home in which to spend the month of August. 

Inside the big double doors were two rooms. 
The rear room was equipped with five white iron 
beds and several chitfoniers and wash stand, while 
the front apartment contained the life guard’s 
motorcycle. 

“ Jiminy, look at that machine,” exclaimed Gor- 
don, who was the first one to enter the building. 

“Cracky, it’s the best make on the market, 
too,” said Nipper Knapp, examining the maker’s 
name plate. 

“Bet it will burn up the beach, eh, fellows?” 
said Eomper. 

“It sure will. It ’s a two-cylinder tandem. It’ll 
make fifty miles an hour, or I’m no judge,” said 
Bruce enthusiastically. * 

“Like it, boys?” queried Mr. Herrick, who had 
been watching them as they inspected the ap- 
paratus. 

“Like it! Gee, we couldn’t help but like it. 
It’s a corker. But what’s that side car parapher- 


LIFE GUAEDS’ BEACH PATROL 167 

nalia, that long box and the cigar-shaped tin can 
and the reel with wire cable on it, and all that?” 

“I’ll explain that to you right away,” said Mr. 
Herrick. “That long, flat-topped box on the side 
car serves several purposes. When you want to 
take an unconscious person to the emergency hos- 
pital over on Beach Avenue you can use the box 
as a stretcher. Just put your patient on to the 
top of it and while the man on the tandem seat 
holds him fast the driver can rush the machine off 
to its destination at top speed ; regular mile-a-min- 
ute ambulance service, you see. 

“Under that flat top are a lot of interesting 
things. The box contains several compartments 
in which are all sorts of first-aid preparations, 
including bandages, medicines, aromatic stimu- 
lants and the like. And, last of all, there is a 
pulmotor.” 

“Oh, I’ve heard of the pulmotor and always 
wanted to see one in use,” said Bud. 

“Well, I’ll tell you how they work,” said Mr. 
Herrick. “It is the latest thing in the way of 
first-aid appliances. It pumps oxygen into the 
lungs of an unconscious person automatically. 


168 THE BOY SCOUT FIRE FIGHTERS 


Firemen and life savers all over the world are 
using them now. That blue tank there contains 
oxygen. This machinery under the glass cover- 
ing is a pump that works by the pressure of the 
oxygen. A little of the oxygen escapes from the 
tank and moves the pump, which forces the life- 
giving gas into those long pipes. That muzzle at 
the end of the pipes is placed over the victim’s 
mouth and nose, and in that way the oxygen enters 
the lungs. You boys can study the directions for 
its use on the cover of the box here. When you 
have a pulmotor around you won’t have to resort 
to the artificial respiration drill described in your 
Handbook. Try it out on each other until you 
know exactly how to handle it.” 

“You bet we will. We’ll work out a regular 
rescue exercise, won’t we, fellows?” said Bruce. 

“ Right- 0 !” exclaimed half a dozen lads in 
unison. 

“Fine. Now, I’ll explain the way a rescue is 
made by the California life savers. That reel 
of wire cable and the cigar-shaped float attached 
to the rear end of the side car is a very important 
factor in rescue work. The float has a life belt 


LIFE GUARDS’ BEACH PATROL 169 


attached to it, as you can see. When a rescue is 
to be made the motorcycle comes to a stop at the 
water’s edge and the man on the tandem seat leaps 
off and seizes the float. He buckles the life belt 
on to him as he plunges into the water and the man 
on shore reels out the cable as the rescuer swims 
to the person in trouble. When the life saver 
reaches the man or woman he is after he does not 
have to struggle to keep afloat, for the buoy holds 
him on top of the water. If he has to dive for the 
drowning one, he merely unbuckles the life belt 
and when he comes to the surface the buoy is right 
there for him to seize hold of, or, if he chose to, 
he could strap it fast to the one he is trying to 
save. The wire cable is very light, but very 
strong, and when the buoy is made fast to any one, 
the man on shore hauls away and drags the body 
out, just as he would haul out a big fish.” 

“Jove, but that’s an outfit for you,” exclaimed 
Romper. 

“Well, I’m glad you like it. Scouts. The out- 
fit in the north station is identically the same. 
I didn’t spare any money to have your equipment 
the finest.” 


170 THE BOY SCOUT FIRE FIGHTERS 


“That’s mighty good of you,” said Bruce. 

“Why, it’s to my own interest, lads. A single 
life saved is worth more to me than all the money 
I’ve put into this scheme. Now it’s up to you 
boys to make good my investment.” 

“We’ll do it,” shouted the scouts in unison. 

“Alright, boys, that’s all I ask. I’ll leave you 
now. You can organize your own patrols and 
select your own leaders without my help. When 
you get hungry, go to the Pine Grove Hotel. I’ve 
arranged to have all your meals served to you 
there. 

“You can spend the rest of the afternoon be- 
coming familiar with the apparatus, and I guess 
you’ll have all the time you want to practice dur- 
ing the next two or three days, for while the races 
are on no bathers will be allowed on the beach. 
Well, good-by and good luck to you.” 

And the genial bath house proprietor left the 
scouts to their own devices. 

“Jiminy, fellows, I can’t believe it. Some one 
pinch me, please. I want to see if I’m awake. 
Just think of being in charge of such an outfit,” 
said Gordon after Mr. Herrick had left. 


LIFE GUARDS’ BEACH PATROL 171 


“It does seem like a dream, doesn’t it!” said 
Bruce, examining the contents of the first-aid 
chest that formed the body of the side car. 
“Come on, let’s dig into this and see what we 
have to work with.” 

That invitation was unnecessary, for several of 
the lads were rummaging through the chest while 
others were inspecting the machine and still others 
were wandering through the building looking their 
new quarters over. So occupied were they in this 
pleasant occupation that they completely forgot 
the time. Indeed, it was after six o’clock before 
they realized it. And since six o’clock was the 
dinner hour at the hotel the lads hustled off up the 
beach to find their boarding place. 

For an hour after they left the hotel the scouts 
wandered through the resort acquainting them- 
selves with the place. At eight they all returned 
to the south station, for they realized that they 
still had a great deal to do that evening. 

When the electric lights were lit and the scouts 
were comfortably situated in the bedroom of the 
station, Bruce called a meeting. The four best 
swimmers were selected first. They were Jiminy, 


372 THE BOY SCOUT FIRE FIGHTERS 


Romper, Bud and Bruce. After a vote Jiminy 
and Bruce were selected to man the motorcycle in 
the south station, while the two others were ap- 
pointed operators of the apparatus in the north 
station. The six remaining lads were appointed 
lookouts to man the beach towers. Three were 
attached to the north station crew, of which Bud 
was made leader, and the other three were ap- 
pointed members of Bruce’s south station crew. 

Before the meeting adjourned it was decided 
that all ten scouts remain in the south station for 
the night, since there would he very little work for 
them to do next day. Bruce also thought it wise 
to have all the lads together while they were learn- 
ing to use the pulmotor and becoming familiar 
with their apparatus. Then, too, the south station 
was better located to afford the lads a view of the 
automobile races next morning, which counted for 
a great deal. 

By sleeping two in a bed and disregarding any 
slight discomforts the ten lads found that they 
could occupy quarters meant to accommodate only 
five. And after a round of pillow fights and simi- 


LIFE GUARDS’ BEACH PATROL 173 


lar nocturnal diversions they were finally all 
tucked in and ready for sleep. 

“WeU, good-night, fellows. Hope we all sleep 
comfortably,” shouted Romper after the lights 
had been turned out. 

“Good-night yourself,” shouted Jiminy. Then 
he added, “Hi, fellows, the Internationals to-mor- 
row ! Whoop — e-e-e ! ’ ’ 


CHAPTER XIII 


THE DAY OF THE BIG BAGS 

B ang — ^ bang-bankety-bang-bang-bang ! The 
ten scouts bounded out of bed at once. 
All were wide eyed with excitement and 

wonder. 

“What the dickens! An earthquake!” de- 
manded Bud Weir. 

Jiminy Gordon was the first one to the window. 
“Gee whiz, look at him go!” 

“Look at who — ^what?” 

“Why that was one of the racing cars,” said 
Jiminy. “They are tuning up for the big races 
to-day. Guess it was a foreign car from the 
racket it made. All the mufflers off. Couldn’t 
make out just which car it was though. Going so 
fast it looked just like a gray streak. I — ” 
“Bur-r-r-r-r bumpety-boom-boom-boom-b a n g- 
bang-bang!” 

“Whoopee-e-e, here’s another one,” screamed 
Jiminy. 


174 


THE DAY OF THE BIG EACE 175 

The ten scouts rushed to the front door of the 
building, ignoring the fact that they were clad 
only in pajamas and night shirts, and waved to the 
passing racer. 

“Cracky, look at him tear up the beach,” ex- 
claimed Bruce. 

“Eather early in the morning to risk one’s neck, 
eh? It’s only four o’clock. Guess they are doing 
their last tuning up before the events start,” said 
Jiminy. 

“Say, how do they race?” asked fat Bahe Wil- 
son. “Do they line ’em up like a lot of sprinters 
and start ’em when a pistol is fired?” 

“Well, they may do some match racing to- 
morrow, but to-day I think they will hold their 
time trials. They will race to see who can make 
the best time over the course,” said Jiminy. 

“How fast can they go?” asked Eay Martin. 

“Oh, they can make a mile in half a minute. 
The world’s record for a mile is twenty-five and 
one-half seconds,” said Gordon, who was more or 
less of an authority on automobiles among the 
members of the Quarry Troop. 

“Gee Whizz! Say what can they make fifteen 


176 THE BOY SCOUT FIRE FIGHTERS 


miles in? How long will it take ’em to go the full 
length of the beach?” asked Bruce. 

“Well, the world’s record for fifteen miles is 
just ten minutes flat. That’s an old record and 
Dan Dacy says he ’s going to smash it to smither- 
eens to-day. Hope he does. Say, fellows, what 
do you say to going down and looking over the 
garages before breakfast?” 

“Fine, let’s get some clothes on and we’ll start 
right away,” said Romper. 

Dressing was only a matter of a few minutes 
and presently the troop was on its way down the 
boardwalk toward the point where the series of 
green-peaked roofs located the garages of the 
speed maniacs. Although it was not yet five 
o’clock in the morning there were scores of peo- 
ple on the board walk all headed in the same di- 
rection. 

“Say, this is going to be a big day all right,” 
said Ray Martin, as he noted the enthusiasm that 
prevailed. 

“Right- 0 , just look at the crowd down there at 
the garages already this morning,” said Bruce. 

About each of the low houses were grouped 


THE DAY OF THE BIG EACE 177 


dozens of curiosity seekers. The scouts soon 
joined the throng and began to inspect the quar- 
ters of the races. Each garage contained a big 
sullen looking car about which was grouped half 
a dozen mechanics. These men were tinkering, 
here, tightening a bolt there, or wiping and pol- 
ishing the great machines as if they were so many 
sacred elephants. Mechanical parts, pumps, 
jacks, boxes of tools, cans of oil, extra tires and 
wheels, cushions and innumerable odds and ends 
were scattered about each building and everybody 
seemed to be keyed up to an extreme nervous pitch. 
On every side could be heard remarks about the 
cars and drivers, their records and their chances 
for winning the various events. 

The excitement was infectious and before they 
realized it the scouts were as thoroughly inter- 
ested as every one else. They began to talk auto- 
mobiles to all with whom they came in contact and 
soon picked up a great deal of information about 
the notables who were to takeipart in the races. 

“Say, Bruce,” said Jiminy Gordon suddenly, 
“there’s Dan Dacy. See him. That big, tall, 
light-haired fellow down there. I’ve seen his 


178 THE BOY SCOUT FIRE FIGHTERS 


picture so many times that I almost feel as if I 
know him. Come on, we’ll go down and see his 
machine. That must be his garage — ^yes, it is. 
See the sign over the door. Vix-Benson, it says. 
That’s the car he’s going to drive.” 

The scouts followed Jiminy and Bruce and soon 
found themselves part of a very large crowd 
gathered about the famous driver’s headquarters. 
Dacy was the favorite American in the race and 
since he was to operate one of the best known 
American cars everybody was enthusiastic to see 
him carry off the honors of the event in which he 
was entered. He was standing by the door of his 
garage watching his attendants tinker with his 
machine, when the scouts came up. The lads 
pushed their way through the crowd to reach the 
rope railing about the entrance to the garage, and 
when the tall racer saw them, he smiled and waved 
his hand. 

‘ ‘ How are you. Scouts ? ” he said good-naturedly. 
Then without waiting for an answer he came over 
to the rope. 

“Where are you fellows from?” he demanded. 

“Woodbridge, Vermont, sir,” said Bruce. 


THE DAY OF THE BIG RACE 179 


“Woodbridge, Vermont? Well, you came a long 
way to see the races, didn’t you?” he said, a boy- 
ish smile playing about the corners of his mouth. 

“Well, not exactly. You see we are here on 
business. That is, we’ve been hired as life guards 
at Old Harbor. We’re going to patrol the beach 
for the rest of the Summer. 

“Oh-ho, so you are the chaps Mr. Herrick was 
telling me about — ^have motorcycles and all that 
sort of rigging, eh? Say, boys, that’s a great 
scheme. I saw the original motor cycle life 
guards work out in California last year, and 
they’re great, too. Hope you have luck.” Then 
after shaking hands with Bruce and Jiminy and 
two or three other scouts, he turned and entered 
the garage, for one of his mechanics had called 
him. 

And although Dan Dacy did not realize it, this 
spirit of democracy had won him ten thoroughly 
capable rooters, for the scouts were more than 
pleased with his friendship. 

“Say isn’t he a corking fine chap,” exclaimed 
Bruce. 

“I should say he was; a regular pippin’ I’d 


180 THE BOY SCOUT FIEE FIGHTEES 


call him,” said Jiminy stoutly. And he looked 
at his companions as if he dared any one of them 
to deny it. 

The crowd about the garage was growing to 
tremendous proportions, and it was all that the 
scouts could do to extricate themselves. When 
they finally reached the open beach again, Bruce 
looked at his watch. 

“Say, fellows, it’s getting late,” he exclaimed; 
“it’s six o’clock and we haven’t had any break- 
fast. I think we will have to hustle over to the 
hotel if we want to get back to quarters and have 
a drill before the races start.” 

“Eight- 0 ,” exclaimed Babe Wilson, “I know it’s 
getting late because my stomach feels all shriveled 
up for want of something to eat.” 

“Huh, that stomach of yours,” said Jiminy 
Gordon in disgust, as he took a lingering look to- 
ward the garages. A moment later he fell in line 
with the rest of the lads, who started up the 
board walk toward the hotel. 

On their way back the scouts paid a brief visit 
to the north station, but they all returned to 
Bruce’s domain at half -past seven, for the north 


THE DAY OF THE BIO EACE 181 


station crew was rather eager to stay in the vicin- 
ity of the lower station for a better view of the 
races. Then, too, they had decided the night be- 
fore that it would be well for all of them to prac- 
tice their first aid work together. 

There was very little need for the lookouts to 
man their tower during this practice work, for 
they needed no drilling since all of their signaling 
would be done with signal flags and the semaphore 
signal code which is part of the examination for 
all second class scouts. 

That being the case, Bruce decided that all of 
the lads would devote the morning to operating 
the puhnotor, while the four life savers made fre- 
quent plunges into the surf so as to become accus- 
tomed to swimming with the aid of the buoy. One 
after another the lads operated the pulmotor upon 
a supposed victim until each had learned the 
proper method of adjusting and strapping fast 
the mouthpiece, and which screws to turn to start 
and stop the oxygen pump. An hour of this 
practice work was quite sufficient, and when it 
was finished Bruce and Jiminy and Bud and Eom- 
per, turn about, took the motor cycle for short 


182 THE BOY SCOUT FIEE FIGHTEES 


dashes up the beach and indulged in a mock rescue. 
At ten o’clock the drilling was stopped, for the 
racing automobiles began to appear on the beach 
in final preparation for the races which were 
scheduled to start at eleven. 

“Say, fellows, that rescue work is some fun,” 
said Jiminy Gordon, as he emerged from the surf 
for the last time and came toward the station. 

“You bet it is,” said Bruce, as he shut off the 
power of the motorcycle and wheeled the machine 
into its quarters. 

“And the water is just snappy enough to feel 
good, too. You know, I think I’ll stay in my bath- 
ing suit all day, even though there won’t be any 
bathers to rescue. I want to get tanned up right 
away,” added Jiminy. 

“Good idea,” exclaimed several, with enthu- 
siasm, and forthwith they all donned the special 
maroon bathing suits that Mr. Herrick had pro- 
vided for his life guards. But it is hard to tell 
whether it was the desire to acquire a good coat 
of tan or the opportunity afforded them to dis- 
play their rather pretentious bathing suits, that 
moved them to take this step. However, fifteen 


THE DAY OF THE BIO EACE 183 


minutes later, a group of ten uniformed and more 
or less self-conscious beach, guards were sunning 
themselves in front of the south station in full 
view of the thousands of people who were gather- 
ing on the board walk to view the races. 

By eleven o’clock the crowd had increased to a 
veritable horde. Thousands lined the board walk 
from the garages to the finish line and hundreds 
of automobiles were parked in every roadway. 
Special guards, composed of the local troop of 
boy scouts with their staffs and a troop of militia 
from Portland had been detailed to keep the sight- 
seers orderly and in position on the board walk. 
They were all having their hands full accomplish- 
ing the task, however, for the automobile 
enthusiasts began to get restless as the time for 
the start of the races drew near. 

At five minutes after eleven the band on the 
recreation pier, which had been blaring forth 
popular airs for an hour, ceased, and a moment 
later the judges made their appearance on the 
beach. This was a signal for prolonged cheering 
on the part of the crowd. But the noise stopped 
when a single individual caraying a black and 


184 THE BOY SCOUT FIRE FIGHTERS 


white flag stepped out into the course and began 
wigwagging. He was signaling to another indi- 
vidual at the garages, who in turn transmitted his 
signal to the starting line in the dim distance 
down the beach. 

“That means everything is ready. The first 
car will start in a moment,” said Jiminy Gordon 
nervously. 

Every one was gazing down the beach, where a 
tiny black blotch on the sand marked the dozen or 
more racing cars held ready for the start. Then 
when every one was waiting tense and silent — 
Boom! came the muffled echo of the starting gun 
— They’re off! cried the crowd, and far, far down 
the beach the scouts could see the tiniest black 
speck coming toward them. Soon they heard a 
curious far-off drone which developed quickly 
into a grumble, then into a fusillade of loud bangs 
as the racing car approached. The scouts were 
all on their feet now, nervous and expectant. 

“Osterhout, the German,” cried the spectators, 
as the long, low racer drew near. 

Then almost before the scouts could wink, it 
had roared past, its hood enveloped in blue flames 


THE DAY OF THE BIG RACE 185 


and its driver bending low over the steering gear. 

“Gee whiz!” was all that the amazed scouts 
could say when the big car roared across the 
line. 

A brief but tense silence followed the finish of 
the run, for the crowd waited while the judges, 
hy means of an elaborate system of telephone 
communicated with the starters, fixed the time. 
Presently, however, the huge scoreboard on the 
recreation pier displayed : Osterhout, two minutes 
34 seconds. This announcement was greeted by a 
roar, for the German had equaled the world record 
for five miles. 

“Cracky,” cried Jiminy Gordon, “Dan Dacy 
will have to go some to beat that. Just think, if 
Osterhout had been one-fifth of a second faster 
he’d have smashed the world’s record. Gosh, I 
wish — ” 

Boom ! Here comes another one ! 

Silence reigned in the vast crowd again and 
every eye followed the black speck. “Du Blon,” 
guessed some; “St. Clare,” said others; “Wol- 
verton,” asserted several enthusiasts. 

But before the big racer had traveled half of 


186 THE BOY SCOUT FIRE FIGHTERS 


the course the hum of its engines ceased and the 
black speck gradually came to a halt. Wolver- 
ton it proved to be and his car had developed en- 
gine trouble. The Stafford car was out of the 
race. 

St. Clare and Du Blon followed in quick suc- 
cession, each of them driving their madly flying 
vehicles to the limit of endurance, but each fell 
behind Osterhout’s mark by several seconds. 
McCalkin, the ruddy-faced Irish driver, was the 
next sensation. His was the smallest car of the 
race in point of length. Indeed, it looked as if it 
had collided with a telegraph pole and lost most 
of its hood. But under that snub nose were con- 
cealed six perfectly good cylinders that spat fire 
all the way down the course and shot the car over 
the finish line two seconds better than the world’s 
record. What a roar of applause greeted the boy- 
ish driver when the figures were displayed ! Even 
the scouts forgot for a moment that they were 
rooting exclusively for Dan Dacy and burst forth 
in a ringing cheer. 

But presently their attention was diverted from 
this achievement, for word was passed from the 


THE DAY OF THE BIG EACE 187 


judges’ stand that Dan Dacy with his Vix-Ben- 
son was the next contestant. 

“Dan Dacy next!” was the word that passed 
from mouth to mouth through the crowd. Every 
one was a-tip-toe with excitement. All eyes were 
strained on the starting line. 

“Gee, I hope he comes through with a new 
record,” said Bruce anxiously. 

“He will,” asserted Jiminy Gordon positively. 

Boom ! Five thousand pairs of eyes were 
fastened on the tiny black speck that detached 
itself from the black blot far down the beach, 
and sped northward. Ten thousand ears were 
strained to catch the first far-off hum of the motor. 

Dacy was coming. His Vix-Benson was burn- 
ing up the beach. Now the scouts caught the buzz 
of the motor. It grew louder with the passing of 
every second. Like a black projectile the car 
came on, flames from the throbbing cylinders lick- 
ing about the hood. 

“Dacy! Dacy! Danny Dacy! Make it a new 
record!” screamed the electrified crowd while he 
was yet two miles from the finish line. Unques- 
tionably he was the favorite. 


188 THE BOY SCOUT FIEE FIGHTERS 


On came the roaring racer. The car was just 
a gray blur that hardly seemed to touch the beach, 
and begoggled Dan Dacy looked like the hooded 
messenger of death. 

Then with an ear-splitting roar the great 
machine passed the scouts on the last mile of the 
course ! 

“By Jiminy, it’s a new record or I’ll — Oh, 
mercy! Look! Look! She’ll be killed!” 

The scouts stood transfixed with horror. Up 
the beach in the very path of the flying motor 
stood little May Herrick, clutching a red rubber 
ball in her hand and looking at the coming ma- 
chine with horror written in every line of her 
childish face. 

The whole situation was clear. The tot had 
dropped her ball, which had rolled out onto the 
sloping beach. With her mind only on rescuing 
the plaything, she had pulled herself out of her 
nurse’s grasp and run out onto the race course. 
And then when she found herself in the path of 
certain death she had become panic-stricken. 

Dan Dacy’s heart must have leapt to his throat 
when he saw the little one in his way. But if it 


THE DAY OF THE BIO EACE 189 


did it in no way affected his nerve. He knew that 
to turn the steering wheel hut an inch meant cer- 
tain destruction to the careening car and a broken 
neck for himself perhaps. Yet he braved this 
hideous fate and wrenched at the steering gear. 

There was a terrific roar, a crash of shattered 
metal and in a cloud of sand the big gray racer 
turned abruptly and plunged end over end down 
the beach into the curling breakers. The crowd 
gave vent to a shriek of alarm when they saw Dan 
Dacy’s limp form shoot clear of the wreck and go 
whirling, arms and legs flying out toward the 
point where the combers were breaking. 

Like every one of the five thousand witnesses 
of the tragedy, the scouts stood paralyzed for a 
moment — but only for a moment — Bruce was the 
first to gather his scattered wits. 

“Quick, Jiminy! We’ll get him! Come! He 
may still be alive ! The rest of you fellows follow 
on foot!” 

While he was speaking, Bruce rushed into the 
station and started the motor cycle. Jiminy was 
right behind him and an instant later the power- 
ful machine was making forty miles an hour over 


190 THE BOY SCOUT FIRE FIGHTERS 


the sandy beach. Bruce bent low over the handle 
bars while Jiminy clung on and sought to buckle 
the life buoy belt about his waist. 

When the machine reached the wrecked motor 
car Bruce brought it to an abrupt stop. But al- 
ready Jiminy had leaped from the machine and 
plunged into the water. With powerful over- 
hand strokes he breasted the breakers. He 
seemed to shoot through the water, so mighty 
were his efforts. 

Thirty feet out he saw something bobbing upon 
the surface of the water. It was Dacy’s leather 
helmet. Toward this Jiminy headed and the 
water fairly boiled with the struggle he was 
making to reach the spot. In a few seconds he 
was near enough to reach out and grasp the black 
object. But he let go of it immediately and the 
next moment he was seen to prepare for a dive 
under the surface. A few feet away he had seen 
some air bubbles coming to the top. 

In a jiffy he had unbuckled the life buoy. Then 
like a seal the lithe youngster sought the dark 
green depths, following the line of bubbles. Down 
he swam, deeper and deeper, for on the white, 



His hand closed about the cold wrist of the unconscious 
m. (Page 191) 






THE DAY OF THE BIG EACE 191 


sandy bottom be could see a dark, shapeless mass 
turning round and round with the action of the 
water. He reached out to seize it and his fingers 
slipped from the driver’s leather jacket. Again 
he tried, and his hand closed about the cold wrist 
of the unconscious man. 

Then he turned and started to struggle upward, 
dragging his heavy burden after him. It was 
hard work — ^terrible work, for he had dived deep 
and he was badly in need of air. His lungs felt 
as if they would burst. The blood pressure in his 
neck and head was almost unbearable. At first 
he could make no headway. The drowning man 
seemed to hold fast to the bottom. But he fought 
hard for he realized that if he let go of Dacy he 
would have diflSculty in finding him with a second 
dive. Every moment was precious, too. There 
might still be a spark of life in the limp form he 
was trying to rescue. 

Up, up, he struggled. Above he could see the 
light of day. Great green bubbles raced past him. 
Only a few feet now. Only a second or two lon- 
ger. Thus did he spur himself onward until sud- 
denly his head shot clear of the waves, and, with 


192 THE BOY SCOUT FIEE FIGHTERS 


a gasp, lie filled his tortured lungs with new air. 

Ten feet away danced the cigar-shaped float 
with its life belt, and swimming toward him from 
the crowded beach were two other scouts ready to 
help. 

Jiminy summoned every ounce of his remaining 
stength and held the head of the unconscious man 
above the water. And when the spectators saw 
that he had actually made the rescue a cheer 
louder and longer than any that had greeted the 
racers rent the air. 

It was hard work and Jiminy was at the point 
of exhaustion, yet he tried his utmost to buckle 
the life belt about poor Dacy. But while he fum- 
bled with the straps the two other scouts arrived 
and relieved him of the task. Quickly the belt 
was adjusted and the sign flashed to Bruce, who 
seized the steel cable and hauled away. 

Then the two lads turned their attention to 
Jiminy and between them aided him into shallow 
water. 

By the time the three swimmers reached the 
beach the scouts had cleared Dacy’s lungs of water 


THE DAY OF THE BIG EACE 193 


and had started the puhnotor. For twenty 
minutes the lads worked valiantly, doing every- 
thing that they could to bring back life in the un- 
conscious man, while the anxious crowd looked on. 

Finally their efforts were rewarded. Dacy’s 
eyelids quivered several times, then slowly open- 
ed, whereat the crowd gave a mad cry of joy and 
the scouts had all they could do to keep them from 
pressing closer. 

But one man did break through the circle of 
guards and the lads let him pass. He was Mr. 
Herrick. Tears of joy coursed down his good- 
natured face when he saw that Dacy was still 
alive, and before the scouts could restrain him 
he seized the prostrate man’s hand and squeezed 
it while he murmured: 

“Dacy, Dacy, thank goodness you are still alive. 
I was afraid you had sacrificed your life to save 
that little girl of mine.” 

Then turning toward Bruce, he said, “Scouts, 
I don’t know how to thank you for this. I — ” 

“Don’t try to thank us, Mr. Herrick,” said 
Bruce, “but you can help us put him onto the side 


194 THE BOY SCOUT PIEE FIGHTEES 


car. I think we should get to a doctor’s right 
away, for there may be some broken bones or in- 
ternal injuries.” 

And a few moments later the life guard’s mo- 
torcycle was carrying its first patient to the 
emergency hospital. 


CHAPTER XIY 


WHEN THE UNEXPECTED HAPPENED 

W HACK — ‘ ‘ Nine - hundred - en - ten ; ’ ’ 
whack — “nine-hundred-en- deven,” 
whack, “Zare ees almoost une tousan 
trees what you boys mus’ cut awraty. What you 
zink of zat?” said Paul Nez, the big Prench- 
Canadian lumber cruiser, as he hacked a blaze 
into a six-inch poplar and left his short hatchet 
wedged fast while he felt through his pockets for 
a handkerchief. 

“Et will take you all ze Wintair for ze work 
mebhe, huh?” he continued, as he blew his nose 
with a loud blast. 

“George! I shouldn’t wonder if it would take 
us a couple of months at least,” said Bruce Clif- 
ford as he sat down upon a stump and pushed his 
hat hack upon his head. 

“Yes, snow will be thick through here when we 
finally finish, I guess,” added Jiminy Gordon, 
surveying the forest. 


196 


196 THE BOY SCOUT PIKE FIGHTERS 


“Well, the Doctair Lyman he say he not in 
such great rush,” smiled the Canadian. Then he 
paused and seemed to search into the very heart 
of the wood with his coal black eyes, and all this 
time he kept sniffing the air. 

“Camp ’round here sure. One no good camp 
too, mebby,” said he finally as he pointed toward 
the west. 

“I thought I smelled the smoke of a camp fire,” 
said Bruce. 

“So did I,” added Jiminy. 

“I smell heem smoke, I smell heem scraps, too. 
No good camp, no know woods. Mebby heem get 
seek. Come on. We all through now. We find 
’em wood road now soon. Doctair Lyman heem 
line run cross by that blaze over tair; you see 
heem, huh? Heem end of Doctair Lyman’s 
wood.” 

‘ ‘ So that ’s the line, eh? Well, twenty-five acres 
of woods is a lot of territory, isn’t it, Bruce?” 
said Jiminy, as he picked up his scout hatchet 
and slipped into his belt. 

The Canadian wrenched his hatchet free from 
the poplar and started swinging westward be- 


THE UNEXPECTED HAPPENED 197 


tween the trees and the two Quarry Troop scouts 
fell in behind him in single file. And as they 
walked on the smell of the camp fire, and the 
tainted odor that emanates from a camp’s gar- 
bage dump grew stronger to their nostrils. 

Then presently the camp itself loomed up at the 
very side of the wood road for which the Canadian 
lumberman was headed. 

A single wall tent of large proportions was the 
most conspicuous thing about the place. This 
had its flaps pinned back and in the doorway, re- 
clining on a collapsible canvas camp chair with a 
bandage-swathed foot propped up on a soap bos 
sat one of the occupants. 

The woodsman and the two Quarry Scouts 
needed only a glance at the little clearing to know 
that those who had built it here knew nothing at 
all about the woods and were, moreover, very dis- 
orderly by nature. Blankets lay in a confused 
heap among leaves and twigs instead of being 
hung up to dry; empty cans, paste board boxes 
and scraps of paper littered the place ; fire burned 
entirely too near a dry brush pile and there was 
no stone fireplace to hold it in check ; loose papers 


198 THE BOY SCOUT FIRE FIGHTERS 

were scattered about and to make matters even 
worse, the pots and pans that bad been used to 
cook the last meal lay on the ground unwashed. 

It was indeed a bungle of a camp but if the 
single occupant realized it he did not seem to care 
a whit for he sat serenely in the doorway of the 
tent so interested in a book that he did not hear 
Paul Nez and his young companions approach- 
ing. 

“ ’Alio, you get heem broke foot, mebby?” said 
Paul with a grin as he moved toward the tent. 

The camper looked up with a start, and then 
smiled. “Yes, I twisted my right ankle yester- 
day by falling down a gully, and ouch — don’t 
make me move ’cause it hurts like sin. Glad it 
isn’t sprained thongh. It ought to be well in four 
or five days. Anything you want? Anything we 
can do for you? If there is, go ahead and do it 
yourself. The rest of the fellows are off part- 
ridge hunting. What do you want, provisions, 
matches? I’U tell you where they are and you 
can help yourself. I can’t move.” 

“We don’t want heem nothin’. We go out of 
woods now right off, down wood road. Why you 


THE UNEXPECTED HAPPENED 199 


don’t fix heem camp up good? Look um fire — 
poor, bad, very worse. Some day heem catch 
bush so, leaves mebby, and then heem timber fire. 
Burn out heem woods. Look um pans, pots, dirty 
dishes. Not good for smell. Not good for men in 
heem woods. Blankets, look um all get lousy. 
Not very good camp, heem,” said the Canadian, 
plainly showing his disgust at the general disorder 
about the place. 

“I know it, old chap. It looks like the sloppiest 
kind of a place to me, but then I’m not supposed 
to know anything about camps and woods. I 
come from Boston, you see. The other fellows 
are the campers. They are Vermonters, from St. 
Cloud City,” said the man in the doorway sar- 
castically. 

“Huh, a deuced of a lot they know about the 
woods and camping,” said Bruce in disgust as he 
surveyed the scene. 

“They know more about keeping a pig sty,” 
said Jiminy Gordon as he picked up the blankets 
and, shaking them free of the dust, hung them 
onto the branch of a nearby hemlock. 

“Thanks, old chap, those blankets on the ground 


200 THE BOY SCOUT FIRE FIGHTERS 


worried me a lot. And if you don’t mind, will 
you scrape up a few of those papers! Jack and 
Bart (they are the fellows who are camping with 
me) run off every morning and leave a mess like 
that behind. They are off hunting most of the day 
and here I have to sit like a blooming invalid until 
they come back. But I don’t mind so long as I 
have a good book. Thanks, that looks much 
better, doesn’t it! I’m much obliged to you 
fellows — ah— er, what ’re your names anyway — 
mine’s Dave — Dave Connors.” 

The two scouts introduced themselves and then 
because Paul Nez had started down the wood road 
they waved farewell to the camper with the in- 
jured foot and hustled to catch up to the timber 
cruiser. 

“When you come into heem woods for cut um 
down!” asked the Canadian when the scouts 
finally caught up with him. 

“Why we are going to start cutting right 
away,” said Bruce. “You see we get a fall vaca- 
tion and that will help a lot. School closes to- 
morrow and remains closed until next Monday. 
The whole troop is coming up to Long Lake to- 


THE UNEXPECTED HAPPENED 201 


morrow afternoon after school closes, to start 
a camp and remain here the whole week. Then 
after that we are going to come up every Friday 
night and work all day Saturday until our contract 
is completed and we have enough lumber to build 
our log camp.” They swung along down the 
wood toward Long Lake where they met the main 
highway that led back toward Woodbridge and 
Scout Headquarters. 

The members of the Quarry Troop of Wood- 
bridge had taken upon themselves a real contract. 
Indeed they felt that they had suddenly all become 
genuine business men as a result of a bargain they 
had made with the leading physician of the vil- 
lage, for you see their little stroke of dickering 
had put them in the way of securing material for 
a real log cabin on the shores of Long Lake, a 
site for the cabin, and a chance to make a little 
money for the troop treasury besides. It had 
come about this way. 

Mr. Ford, the Assistant Scoutmaster of the 
Quarry Troop, had learned from Dr. Lyman that 
he intended to cut a great deal of the standing 
timber on his tract of twenty-five acres bordering 


202 THE BOY SCOUT FIRE FIGHTERS 


the lake. This he intended to dispose of as pulp 
wood, the only purpose it was really good for. 
Mr. Ford had imparted this information to Bruce 
Clifford and Jiminy Gordon that same evening 
and it was not long before the leader of the Owl 
Patrol and his churn; had discovered the possibili- 
ties of a business deal. 

Accordingly after the next meeting the two lads 
visited Dr. Lyman and made him a proposition to 
the effect that the scouts would cut his pulp wood 
and take their pay in trees. These trees, the lads 
explained, were to be felled and used to construct 
a log cabin on the lake shore. As part of the 
bargain they asked for permission to use a section 
of Dr. Lyman’s land that bordered the lake as a 
site for their camp. 

The plan struck the physician as being capital 
and he was particularly pleased to find that the 
boys were eager to earn their pleasure with good 
hard work. In fact he was so pleased that he 
made a bargain whereby the boys would get one 
cord of wood in every four cut and they could have 
their wood either in trees or in cord wood lengths, 
just as they desired. Under this arrangement it 


THE UNEXPECTED HAPPENED 203 


was quite apparent that the boys would have more 
than enough lumber to build their log cabin and 
Dr. Lyman told them that he would buy whatever 
extra wood fell to their share and pay for it at 
the market price of pulp wood. 

Moreover, to help the boys, the physician ar- 
ranged to have Paul Nez, an experienced timber 
cruiser, traverse the woods, blazing each tree of 
the proper pulp wood species and size thus giving 
the boys a clear idea of what timber to cut and 
what to leave standing. And Bruce and Jiminy 
were asked to accompany him so that they might 
become familiar with the forest. 

Tramping the length and breadth of twenty- 
five acres of wood land, blazing every tree be- 
tween six and eight inches, was not the easiest 
sort of work the scouts had ever undertaken, and 
when they finally arrived at Woodhridge at four 
o’clock in the afternoon they were “plum tucker- 
ed,” to quote Jiminy. 

However, a brief rest and a hearty evening 
meal put them in fine shape once more and they 
were able to get to the troop headquarters betimes 
that evening, for a meeting had been called at 


204 THE BOY SCOUT FIEE FIGHTEES 

whicli plans were to be laid for tbe start of the 
lumber camp. 

Mr. Ford was at headquarters to hear the de- 
tails of the cruise from Jiminy and Bruce, and 
he also gave the scouts some expert advice as to 
the equipment they would want for the beginning 
of the camp on the morrow. 

Among other things he suggested that they 
build a winter camp immediately by putting up 
lean-tos with thatched roofs on the shores of the 
lake. These would be warmer than their tents 
and would make more or less comfortable quar- 
ters until along toward snow time, when the big 
log cabin the lads hoped to build would be well 
on its way toward completion. Then, too, these 
structures could be left in the woods and would 
always be ready for the boys, whereas if they 
used their tents they would have to make and 
break camp every Saturday: The Assistant 
Scoutmaster also made out lists of provisions, 
clothes and equipment for the boys and they spent 
a busy evening getting everything together and 
in shape for an early start next morning. 

In the weird half light of dawn next day, long 


THE UNEXPECTED HAPPENED 205 


before Woodbridge was awake and stirring, near- 
ly a score of scouts were hustling toward head- 
quarters on the crown of Otter Hill. Every lad 
was in uniform and most of them wore mackinaws 
or sweaters to keep out the early morning c hill . 

Also each carried the family ax, and over his 
shoulder blanket roll and haversack. 

“Old Nanc,” the troop’s automobile, stood in 
front of the old machine shop piled high with tar- 
paulins, cooking utensils, provisions, and a dozen 
and one other things that the scouts used in their 
summer camp, and in the driver’s seat was Brad 
Henshaw, Dr. Lyman’s chauffeur. Several of the 
boys found room for themselves on the running 
board ; the others went on their motorcycles, which 
were to be brought back in the car, for there was 
no safe place in camp for such things. 

It was with considerable groaning and grum- 
bling that the home-made automobile finally got 
under way, but when she was safely started the 
rest of the expedition followed in her wake, and 
trundled on toward their destination. 

A little after sun-up found the lads at the lake 
shore. Here “Old Nanc” and the cycles were 


206 THE BOY SCOUT FIRE FIGHTERS 


halted, for there was no chance of her making her 
way along the uneven wood road that skirted the 
lake for half a mile before it turned and entered 
the heart of the forest. 

At this point the scouts detrained, as it were, 
and deposited all their luggage on the ground. 
Then, having unloaded the automobile, they pro- 
ceeded to reload her, this time with her brood of 
gasoline-fed ducklings. This done the outfit was 
turned over to Brad again who immediately 
started back to Woodbridge. 

For an hour after the departure of the automo- 
bile the scouts were as busy as bees carrying their 
paraphernalia to the camp site which they had 
picked out on the lake shore at the point where 
the wood road turned and entered the forest. 
Here was a little stretch of high ground that had 
been partly cleared by wind-falls and Bruce and 
Jiminy had selected it as an ideal location for the 
camp and site for the troop’s future log cabin 
headquarters. 

With practically three patrols at work it did 
not take the lads long to clear away the under- 
brush and fallen logs in the open space. Indeed 


THE UNEXPECTED HAPPENED 207 

the whack, whack of their hatchets and the heavier 
cluck, cluck of their axes could be heard on all 
sides of the clearing and in a surprisingly short 
time a big space had been made ready for the 
camp. Dozens of young cedars and fir trees were 
felled for the lean-tos and in short order the lads 
were busy with hammers and nails putting up the 
frame- work of six of these shelters. 

They worked with a will and the little forest 
settlement grew apace. After the frame work of 
the structures was completed the scouts set to 
work with clasp knives and hatchets and stripped 
the cedars and firs of their branches. Then with 
this material they began to thatch the sides and 
roof of the lean-tos working the twigs in and out 
until they formed a thickly matted protection 
against the weather. They worked with a will in 
spite of cut and blistered fingers and pitch black- 
ened hands until it began to look as if they would 
have their little lumbering village finished and 
ready for occupancy by mid-afternoon. 

At half past eleven Romper Ryan, Ray Martin 
and Buster Benson knocked off shelter-building, 
for they had been appointed cooks for the camp. 


208 THE BOY SCOUT FIRE FIGHTERS 


Hastily they put together a big stone fireplace well 
away from any leaves and underbrush, and after 
they had a good fire going they began preparing 
the first meal at the Quarry Scout lumber camp. 

The three lads elected to the commissary de- 
partment were the best cooks in the troop, and 
they did themselves proud on that particular oc- 
casion, for when Romper finally sounded his call 
to quarters on the bottom of the tin dishpan there 
were stacks of golden brown country sausages, 
snowy white boiled potatoes, savory strips of fried 
bacon, three big pots of steaming hot coffee and 
last, but not least, nearly a hundred chocolate 
doughnuts which Jiminy Gordon’s mother had 
contributed just by way of showing the boys how 
much she thought of them. 

In a jiffy seventeen youngsters were assembled 
in line, tin plate and cup in hand. One by one 
they filed past the three cooks and received their 
portions, and shortly after they were all sitting 
cross legged on the ground, each devoting his full 
attention to filling a vacant space just under his 
belt. The only sound that could be heard was the 
scraping of knives and forks against the tin plates. 


THE UNEXPECTED HAPPENED 209 


and now and then a grunt of satisfaction, for their 
work in the open had given the lads appetites of 
young sharks. 

“Um-m-m, jiminy, that was some feed!” 
grunted Jiminy Gordon as he put down his plate 
and wiped his mouth on his handkerchief. 

“You said it, only I wish I could have just one 
more helping of sausages and maybe a little more 
potatoes; I think I’d feel entirely satisfied then,” 
said fat Babe Wilson, looking pleadingly at Kom- 
per. 

“Aw give him enough to eat, Eomper, he’s only 
had three helpings already,” jeered Bud Weir. 

“Sorry, Babe, but you’ve cleaned us out. 
There isn’t a potato or a sausage left,” said 
Bomper. 

“Gee, that ’s a fine note. W ant to starve him ? ’ ’ 
said Bay Martin, sarcastically. 

“Hi, don’t you talk. You got your share be- 
fore we did. Pretty soft being a cook. I’d like 
to have that job myself,” snorted Babe Wilson. 

“You leave Bay alone, Babe. He’s some cook, 
he is. So is Bomper, too, only he lets his old fire 
smoke. Look at that yellow haze up there among 


210 THE BOY SCOUT FIEE FIGHTERS 


the trees. Did your fire make all that smoke, 
Romper?” said Bruce. 

“My fire — why — blame it all it’s out. It’s plum 
down to ashes — and, gee! I didn’t heat any dish 
water. Hi, Buster, what did you let that fire go 
out for? I told you to put some wood on and heat 
water.” 

“I — I — aw, I was so hungry I forgot about it. 
Never mind I’ll build it again. I — ” 

“Say, Romper, is your fire really out?” queried 
Bruce, looking at the fireplace. Then he added: 

“Sure enough, but by gollies I smell some — I 
hope it isn’t — gee, look over to the west there 
above the trees: Is that smoke? Is it? Say, 
fellows, can it be a forest fire? Gee, I hope not.” 

“Forest fire!” exclaimed half a dozen scouts. 

Every lad jumped to his feet immediately and 
looked in the direction Bruce was pointing. And 
there they beheld a pall of yellow smoke hang- 
ing low above the tree tops. They could smell it, 
too. The pungent odor of burning hemlock was 
so strong as to be unmistakable. Then for the 
first time the lads noted that the sunlight seemed 
dimmed too. 


THE UNEXPECTED HAPPENED 211 

“Jove, I believe it is a forest fire,” cried Bud 
Weir. 

“I’ll bet — say, fellows, look at those big jack 
rabbits, and there’s a fox, and look at the birds. 
It’s a forest fire all right, or those animals 
wouldn’t be running out in the open like that and 
streaking it for the lake. Cracky what’ll we do? 
I — Hi, Bruce, what’s getting you, you’re as pale 
as a ghost?” 

Every lad turned toward the leader of the Owl 
Patrol, who stood as if stricken dumb with hor- 
ror. But even as they gazed at him he shook off 
the mental fetters and immediately became a lad 
of action. 

“Fellows,” he cried, “listen! There’s a man 
in there — in the fire. Perhaps three of them. 
Jiminy, you remember, Dave — Dave, what’s-his- 
name — Connors. You know, the fellow in camp 
over there with the twisted ankle. We saw him 
yesterday. He ’s probably in there yet. W e must 
get h im out. He can’t move, and a forest fire’s 
about the most terrible thing in the world. Quick, 
fellows! Get your blankets and wet ’em in the 
lake. Quick, now! Follow me!” 


CHAPTER XV 


A NAEKOW ESCAPE 


S usual Dave Connors awoke to find him- 



self alone in camp that morning. Jack 


and Bart, his camping companions, had 
left at dawn and gone out partridge hunting ex- 
actly as they had done every day since Dave fell 
down into the gully and twisted his ankle. They 
were thoughtful enough to leave the coffee pot 
within reach of Dave’s cot, however, along with 
some fried strips of bacon, bread and butter and a 
couple of boiled eggs, so that the injured man did 
not have to hobble about to get his own breakfast. 

Dave dashed a cup of water over his hands and 
splashed a little in his face by way of perform- 
ing his toilet and then sitting on the edge of his 
cot, proceeded to devour what was before him 
eagerly, for, although his foot was injured, his ap- 
petite was entirely healthy. 

“Um — m — ^m that was good,” he muttered as 


212 


A NAEROW ESCAPE 


213 


he wiped his mouth on his sleeve and looked down 
at his bandaged foot. 

“Now if my old kick was in good order I’d go 
for a long tramp with a gun but — Ah, — ouch — 
still sore and swollen. Guess I won’t be able to 
hobble about for a couple of days yet,” he reflected 
as he felt of the injured member. 

Then steadying himself on the edge of the cot 
with the assistance of a cane that Jack cut for him 
three days before, he hobbled to the tent doorway 
and looked out. 

“Jove, what a corking day! It’s a shame I 
had to get laid up right at the beginning of the 
trip. But I’ll be all right in a couple of days 
and I suppose I can stand it as long as my books 
hold out. But, blame it all, look at this camp. 
Jack and Bart are the sloppiest fellows I ever 
saw. Look at the blankets on the ground again 
and the papers scattered everywhere. And look 
at the big fire they’ve left. What for, I wonder? 
I wish I could get out there and clean up the 
place. I’ll speak to them to-night. I don’t think 
such conditions are sanitary. I — ^I — ouch, blast 
it, I can’t clean up the place,” and with a look of 


214 THE BOY SCOUT FIEE FIGHTERS 


disgust the man from Boston limped over to his 
camp chair and picked up the book that had held 
his interest the day before. 

How long he had been reading he did not know ; 
perhaps an hour, perhaps two. But suddenly he 
was aroused by a strange, unnatural cracking 
sound. He looked up with a start, and his eyes 
dilated with horror at what he saw. 

There, not ten feet from him, creeping and 
writhing through the dried grass and leaves and 
darting long yellow tongues toward him menac- 
ingly, wormed a streak of fire. 

It was like a serpent that had crawled out of 
the embers and sought to catch him unawares. 
Slowly it moved forward, fanned by the fall breeze 
until it was a big V extending across the camp 
clearing, with each arm burning. 

On it advanced, licking up everything in its 
path. Here it consumed a leaf, there a scrap of 
paper, and each time it devoured something it 
waxed stronger and more threatening. Even 
while Dave sat there staring at it, it reached a 
dried branch. With a crackle this burst into 
flame, setting fire in turn to a sheet of newspaper 


A NAEEOW ESCAPE 


215 


nearby. Instantly this was a burning torch. 
Dave tried to knock it out with his cane. But be- 
fore he could reach it a gust of wind seized and 
whirled it across the opening, flinging it spitefully 
against a fir tree. 

With a hiss and a crackling roar this blazed 
up. In a moment it was a column of fire stretch- 
ing skyward. The sight was terrible to behold. 
Then like a whirlwind the arms of fire reached 
out and enveloped another tree, and sparks fly- 
ing with the wind lodged in a spruce nearby and 
converted it into a roaring furnace. And thus in 
the space of a minute a forest fire was started ! 

The scorching heat of the burning spruce 
brought Dave to his senses. He saw before him 
a hideous fate. Heedless of the pain in his foot 
he jumped up. His handkerchief he plunged into 
a pail of drinking water just inside the tent door, 
then with this wrapped about his face and mouth 
and with his stout cane in hand, he scrambled 
across the clearing and into the long wood road 
that led eastward through the forest toward the 
lake, half a mile distant. 

Oh, if he could run ! If he could only have the 


216 THE BOY SCOUT FIRE FIGHTERS 


use of his injured foot for fifteen minutes, he 
thought, as he limped on. Behind him he could 
hear the roar of the fire as it reached out and gath- 
ered energy by licking up tree after tree. The 
air was filled with smoke, pungent and nauseat- 
ing. All about in the forest on either side of the 
road livid tongues upleaping, consuming every- 
thing and growing stronger every moment. 

On hobbled the man from Boston, trying des- 
perately to make time; trying mightily to cheat 
the fire demons that shrieked and roared behind 
him. And he was not the only one that was flee- 
ing from the seething furnace that once had been 
a cool autumn woods. Three deer whisked by 
him like flashes of the fire itself. Rabbits, skunks 
and foxes darted here and there among the trees, 
all headed for the safety of the lake. And a big 
black bear lumbered by, grunting with every gal- 
lop. How Dave envied them. They would be 
safe. Would he? 

Forward he hurried, braving excruciating pain 
in his injured limb to save his life. Acrid smoke 
blasts swept down upon him and almost stifled 
him. On every side he could feel the heat of the 


A NAEEOW ESCAPE 


217 


flames. Once a spark dropped upon his shoulder 
and fired his shirt. With a cry he beat it out and 
strove harder. The pain in his foot was unbear- 
able. It made the perspiration stand out upon his 
forehead. It made him whirl with giddiness. 
But on he plunged, fighting the fire, the smoke and 
the pain and striving his hardest to gain the lake. 

Once he thought of Jack and Bart and grew 
very bitter, for somehow the fire seemed the re- 
sult of their carelessness. Would they be trapped 
by it? They had two good strong legs. They 
would save themselves, he hoped. So must he! 
Gritting his teeth and stifling a groan, he tried to 
gallop, using the cane and injured foot in unison. 
It was painful, but he must mak^ time — ^he must 
go fast, faster. 

The fire was close behind. It was gaining. He 
could hear its triumphant roar. It would catch 
him soon. Only a few minutes and a fiery arm 
would reach out like a python and wrap about him. 
The thought made him shudder. 

“No! No! It must not reach me!” he cried 
in horror and leapt forward. But his cane slipped 
and jammed between his legs. He tripped and 


218 THE BOY SCOUT FIEE PIGHTEES 

lost his balance. In a mad effort to save him- 
self from falling he put his injured foot forward. 
His entire weight came down upon it and the ankle 
snapped. The pain was more than he could stand. 
With a cry of agony he sank into a limp heap. 

Bruce ’s startling revelation that there was a life 
to be saved spurred the scouts to action. One 
more glance in the direction of the smoke pall to 
the westward and in a twinkle every lad had his 
blanket in hand and was sousing it into the lake. 
Handkerchiefs were doused too, for the young- 
sters knew well that- the smoke would soon be so 
thick that they would need this kind of protec- 
tion. 

And while the rest were thus occupied, Bruce 
held a hasty conference with Jiminy, and the two 
boys quickly cut scout staffs. With these in hand 
they waved the troop forward and started off at. a 
mad pace up the wood road to meet the advancing 
forest fire. 

On they raced, the smoke growing heavier and 
more pungent as they neared the flames. They 
could hear the deep toned muttering of the con- 
flagration. And all the way along the road they 


A NAEROW ESCAPE 


219 


were breasting a tide of forest dwellers, deer, rab- 
bit, bears, and a bost of smaller animals, all 
seurring away from the roaring doom behind 
them. 

Soon the lads were in the zone of flying sparks. 
Here and there along the road small fires were 
being started. These were quickly beaten out, for 
the boys were determined not to have their retreat 
cut off. As they moved forward Bruce’s heart 
grew heavy, for he could see that already the 
flames had swept by the camping site of Dave Con- 
nors and his companions. The patrol leader 
hoped fervently that the injured youth had been 
able to keep ahead of the rushing fire. 

They were approaching the fire belt. Their 
eyes smarted from the smoke. They could feel 
the heat on every hand. They pulled their hats 
low to protect their foreheads and pushed on. 
Fire was everywhere. Here and there pine trees 
burst into flames with a hiss and a roar, and how 
and then blazing branches would come hurling 
through space to fall with a crash in the road- 
way. 

Bruce began to be worried. Had he brought 


220 THE BOY SCOUT FIEE FIGHTEES 


the scouts out ou a dangerous but useless mission? 
Had Dave Connors come down the wood road, or 
had he gone wandering blindly through the for- 
est to be trapped and burned to death? Perhaps 
even now he was a charred mass somewhere back 
there in that seething forest. The smoke was so 
thick that the boys could not see two feet ahead 
of them, but they struggled forward, beating out 
menacing tongues of flames on every hand, hoping 
to keep the roadway open for a retreat. 

Through the smoke they groped; bending low 
and breathing through their wet handkerchiefs. 
Their eyes burned. Their lungs pained with the 
gases they had inhaled, but they pushed on until 
suddenly with a cry Bruce stumbled and pitched 
forward. 

But he was on his feet in an instant, and ex- 
amining the apparently lifeless mass in the road- 
way that had tripped him. Then with a shout of 
delight, he summoned Jiminy and in an instant a 
coat stretcher was made with the aid of the scout 
staffs they had cut. Then with the limp form of 
Dave Connors between them the two scouts started 
struggling back toward the lake. Away from the 



With the limp form of Dave Connor between them the 
two scouts started struggling back toward the lake. 

(Page 220) 



A NAEROW ESCAPE 


221 


fire they raced with the troop behind them still 
beating out the menacing sparks and flames. 

Forward they hurried, but as they advanced 
this time their way grew easier and the smoke 
less pungent. Soon they were among the refugees 
again. Babbits, mink and foxes scuttled along 
with them, and the boys had to turn out to keep 
from treading on some of the smaller animals who 
could not travel as fast as their bigger woods 
neighbors. The heat of the Are was left behind 
and falling sparks no longer bothered them. 
Their way to the lake was clear. 

A few minutes later they reached the knoll upon 
which their lumber camp was being constructed. 
Here they paused long enough to permit Bruce 
and Jiminy to administer first aid to the uncon- 
scious Dave Connors. And while the lads were 
reviving him, others gathered together hatchets, 
axes, cooking utensils and whatever else they 
could conveniently carry, and bidding farewell to 
their doomed camp they made ready for a plunge 
into the shallows of the lake. 

All that afternoon and a good part of the eve- 
ning, the scouts stood shoulder deep in the cool 


222 THE BOY SCOUT FIRE FIGHTERS 


waters and watched the landscape burn. Acres 
and acres of woodland with thousands of dollars’ 
worth of timber was consumed before their eyes. 
Dave watched it sadly, for he knew that all this 
ruin had been wrought by him and his careless 
camping companions. 

Every shallow of the lake was crowded with ani- 
mal life of all kinds, and the lads knew that thou- 
sands of forest dwellers must have perished in 
that inferno. They stood among deer and bears 
and other more timid forest dwellers, but the fear 
of man and the natural enmity toward each other 
was completely blotted out by the greater fear of 
the fire, and a seeming sense of comradeship horn 
of common danger. 

Night came, and the sky was a livid pink. The 
lake had checked the fire’s advance to the east- 
ward and the wind had driven the flames north to- 
ward the mountains. Further and further away 
traveled the flames painting the sky a sinister 
color and producing a spectacle that the scouts 
never forgot. 

At midnight, though the woods still smoldered, 
the boys contemplated leaving the shallows in 


A NAEEOW ESCAPE 


223 


wMcli they had been standing and going ashore, 
for they argued that if the heat from the embers 
was not too intense they could work along the 
margin of the lake until they reached the opposite 
shore. 

But while they were contemplating this, off 
across the lake they saw lights advancing toward 
them. They heard shouts, too, and they shouted 
in answer, and it was not long before they had 
guided a flotilla of small boats toward them. This 
proved to be a rescuing party organized and 
headed by the anxious Mr. Ford and old Dr. Ly- 
man, who were almost distracted until they made 
doubly certain that every lad was safe and whole 
of limb and body. 


chapter XVI 

QtTABBY troop’s CHRISTMAS 

TT THEW-W-W! Hi, shut that door— 
m / %/ good night ! want to freeze us 
out?” shouted Romper Ryan, as he 
glared across the workshop at Bruce Clifford and 
Bud Weir. 

“Aw, don’t get fidgety. You won’t ever freeze 
the way you’re hanging over that forge. What’s 
the matter. Romper?” asked Bruce. 

“Busted the frame of my snowshoe. Trying to 
make a little brace for it and get it fixed up before 
you fellows arrived.” 

“When’ll you be ready? Where are the rest of 
the fellows?” 

“They’re upstairs. I’ll be ready in a jiffy 
now.” 

The two scouts crossed the shop and made their 
way noisily up the wooden stairs to the meeting 
room, where they found half a dozen lads in an 


224 


QUAEEY TEOOP’S CHEISTMAS 225 

animated discussion as to where the biggest and 
best Christmas trees were to be found. 

“I tell you the forest fire cleaned everything 
out of the Long Lake district,” asserted Eay Mar- 
tin. 

“Well, I suppose you want us to go all the way 
over into Bland County this cold day,” said fat 
Babe Wilson sarcastically. 

‘ ‘ Speaking of forest fires, ’ ’ said Bruce, who had 
come into the room just in time to hear Eay Mar- 
tin’s remark; “speaking of forest fires, did any 
of you fellows see the Northern Lights last night 
up back of Haystack Mountain? Father and I 
thought first it was a forest fire. The sky was all 
pink and white. But we concluded it must have 
been the reflection of the Aurora Borealis. You 
can see ’em this time of year, you know. Snow 
helps their reflection. Pop says.” 

“Is that what it was? I saw it too, and when 
I saw the red glow in the sky I just naturally 
thought of that Long Lake fire last month. Say, 
by the way I got a postal card from that fellow 
in Boston, we rescued. Eemember? Dave Con- 
nors is his name — Collies, every time I think of 


226 THE BOY SCOUT FIEE FIGHTERS 


forest fires I shudder. He sure had a close squeek 
and so did we. That’s why that glow in the sky 
last night sort of made an impression on me. I 
wondered if any one was caught in it, same as we 
were nearly caught?” said Nipper Knapp. 

“Aw, I tell you it wasn’t a fire. It was the 
Northern Lights back of Haystack Mountain. 
Dad said so, and he knows, and, say, speaking of 
Haystack Mountain,” added Bruce, “why not go 
up there for our tree? If this is going to be the 
town’s Christmas tree it must be a whopper. 
Most all of that land up there belongs to the peo- 
ple Mr. Ford works for and he has permission 
from them to cut as many trees as we need. How 
about it?” 

“By jiminy! that’s just what I said, Bruce,” 
cried Jiminy Gordon, “and Romper agrees with 
me.” 

“Sure I do,” said Romper, suddenly making his 
appearance from the workshop, his mended snow- 
shoe in hand. 

“Then it’s Haystack Mountain. Come on, fel- 
lows, get ready; half the morning will be gone 
before we start,” said Bruce, and in a twinkle a 


QUARRY TROOP’S CHRISTMAS 227 

half-score of scouts were donning mackinaws and 
sweaters and making themselves generally secure 
against a temperature that hovered very close to 
the zero mark. And five minutes later the entire 
crew, armed with axes and snowshoe-shod were to 
be seen leaving headquarters in single file and 
heading up Otter Creek Valley over three feet of 
December snow. 

Woodbridge had once more honored the Quarry 
Troop. But the lads had earned the honor by 
suggesting that the town hold a public celebra- 
tion in the square in front of the Town Hall on 
Christmas Eve. Moreover, they had worked 
their hardest to gain the interest of village offi- 
cials, ministers, and men and women of the com- 
munity in such a celebration and it could well be 
said that through the efforts of the khaki-clad 
youngsters, Woodbridge, as a community, would 
for the first time welcome the coming of Christ- 
mas. Neighbors and friends, rich and poor, 
young and old, would stand shoulder to shoulder 
this Christmas Eve and sing the joy and happiness 
of the Yuletide. 

And for their share in the organization work 


228 THE BOY SCOUT FIEE FIGHTERS 


the scouts had been granted the privilege of pro- 
Auding the town with a big community Christmas 
tree, which was to stand in the center of the square 
and be decorated from bottom to tip with col- 
ored electric lights. This decorating was an af- 
fair of the Quarry Scouts also. They had been 
given the commission by Mayor Worthington and 
the councilmen to do all the electric wiring and the 
stringing of the bulbs. 

Of course the lads welcomed such an important 
task, for they were eager to demonstrate how 
useful they could be. Also they were pleased to 
display their knowledge of mechanics. So it can 
be easily understood why Bruce and his chums 
were eager to get an early start the Saturday 
morning a week before Christmas. They intended 
to search the woods for the tallest and straightest 
fir tree in the township. 

In spite of the fact that their ears tingled with 
the bitter cold and the wind whistled through the 
valley, whirling the powdery crystals of snow into 
their faces, the scouts were a happy lot of young- 
sters as they swung their way northward. Who 
could be other than happy with Christmas but a 


QUAERY TROOP’S CHRISTMAS 229 


week off? Snowballs flew thick and fast among 
them, and now and then snowshoe races were run, 
too. 

The lads chose the valley bottom for their jour- 
ney and avoided the highway which swung to the 
left and made a wide detour before the byroad 
that approached Haystack Mountain joined it. 
With this route the lads could cut down the jour- 
ney at least three miles and then, too, they had 
fine snow for shoeing. 

Soon they had left the open and entered the 
hardwood belt from which all the firs and other 
evergreens had long since been trimmed. Snow- 
shoeing through the woods was not so much of a 
lark, for the lads had no trail to follow and must 
needs work their way between half -covered under- 
brush. The snow was softer here, too, and their 
shoes dragged. But most of their surplus energy 
had been worked off by this time and they were 
willing to settle down to single file. Each took his 
turn breaking a trail. 

On they traveled for more than an hour, always 
keeping the shoulder of Haystack Mountain, which 
loomed up above the tree line, their objective. 


230 THE BOY SCOUT FIRE FIGHTERS 


About half a mile from tbe mountain they sud- 
denly came clear of the woods and into the high- 
way. Here a brief conference was held as to the 
advisability of trying to climb the shoulder of 
the mountain or taking the road which led around. 
The last route was decided upon, because up here 
the thoroughfare was little traveled and was prac- 
tically unbroken. Indeed, they saw signs of very 
few sleighs having passed there since the snow- 
storm four days previous. 

Away they swung, keeping an eye out on either 
side of the road for a Christmas tree, but they 
did not find a fir tall enough to be used for the 
town’s tree. 

Soon they were around the shoulder of the 
mountain and traveling west. The woods were 
thicker here and trees more numerous. But there 
was a peculiar odor of burnt wood in the air, too, 
which all the scouts detected. 

“Cracky! I believe your Northern Light was a 
forest fire, or — or — say, isn’t that smoke rising 
above those trees there?” demanded Nipper 
Knapp. 

“Right, by gollies!” shouted Bruce, “but — oh. 


QUAERY TROOP’S CHRISTMAS 231 

I know, now. There’s a little farm in there. It’s 
been vacant for — no, it hasn’t, by jingoes! an old 
lady has been living there all Fall. I’ve seen 
her in town. Nanny Haskells, they call her. 
Cracky ! come on, fellows, maybe the poor old soul 
has been burned to death!” 

The scouts were off at a gallop, stirring up the 
snow like a whirlwind as they loped along the 
road. Soon they came to an unbroken lane 
through the woods. Into this they turned and a 
hundred yards further on they emerged into the 
little farm clearing. What a sight met their 
eyes. 

In a smoldering, smoking heap of charred ruins 
lay what remained of an old-fashioned farmhouse 
and barn that had stood there for years. The 
fire had burned itself out, except here and there 
where glowing coals showed themselves. Only 
two blackened timbers remained standing. And 
in this picture of devastation, looking the most 
lonesome and pathetic figure in the world, wan- 
dered the tiniest, most old-fashioned and motherly 
looking woman the lads had ever seen. 

She seemed all but distracted with her misery, 


232 THE BOY SCOUT FIEE FIGHTEES 


for she went about wringing her hands and sob- 
bing as if her heart were broken. Here and there 
she picked her way, peering into the smoking 
ashes and now and then poking among them for 
a trinket or a keepsake that the fire had only 
blackened. It was a pathetic sight indeed, and 
the sturdy scouts all felt heavy hearted as they 
watched her. 

Finally Bruce left the group and went toward 
her. Then for the first time the little woman 
looked up, startled at first. But when she saw 
the uniforms the lads wore she was no longer 
frightened. In truth, she seemed to welcome them 
as the only sympathetic human beings she had seen 
to whom she could tell her woes. 

“Oh, boys, boys, it’s gone, all, all gone. Look 
— ^my old home all in ruins. Oh, dear! oh, dear! 
I’m so miserable. What shall I ever do? Why 
should this be taken from me, too? They took — 
they took her — her — and, oh, dear ! oh, dear ! what 
shall I do?” she cried. 

Bruce put his hands out to comfort her as best 
he could and the little lady came toward him and 
laid her head upon his chest, sobbing as if her 


QUAERY TROOP’S CHRISTMAS 233 

heart was broken. But the all-night strain on 
one so old had been too great and presently she 
became very quiet, so quiet indeed that Bruce be- 
came frightened and looked down into her face. 
And instantly he realized that she was completely 
worn out. 

“Here, fellows,” he called in a business-like 
tone, “the poor old lady is all in. We must take 
her to town and get her into the hospital. Come, 
fellows, quickly now. You, Jiminy, and Nipper, 
make a coat stretcher — cut some staffs — strong 
ones. The three of us will take her back to town. 
The rest of you fellows go after the Christmas 
tree. But first lend us a jacket or a sweater or 
two to bundle the old lady in.” 

In a twinkle the scouts were busy. Staffs were 
cut, the stretcher constructed and old Nanny made 
comfortable with extra coats and sweaters that the 
more warmly clad scouts could spare. Then, as 
the three lads started townward, Bruce shouted: 

“Hi, Bud, see that you get a whopping big tree. 
A thirty footer, if you can. We’ll be back in an 
hour or so to help you. So long.” 

Crisp weather and an additional snowstorm 


234 THE BOY SCOUT FIEE FIGHTERS 


during the week that preceded the holidays gave 
the youngsters of the Vermont town full assur- 
ance of a white Christmas. And they would have 
been mightily disappointed lads if such had not 
been the case, for what would a Community 
Christmas celebration and a town Christmas tree 
be like without snow everywhere? It was good 
packing snow, too, as numerous snow fights at 
noon time, on the academy campus, attested. 

But, aside from these noon-day diversions, the 
Quarry Scouts had little time to indulge in Win- 
ter sports that week. The hills about town were 
just right for coasting and the broad Champlain 
Valley stretched north and south to be explored 
on snowshoes, skis, and with sleigh-riding par- 
ties, but the scouts could not find time to enjoy 
these opportunities. Rather, they found their fun 
in anticipating a good time after Christmas, pro- 
viding the snow lasted, for they had work to do. 
There was the big Christmas tree to be erected 
and trimmed. 

It was a monster tree. Thirty-two feet from 
base to tip, and as it lay there in front of the 
town hall waiting to be elevated into position, it 


QUAERY TROOP’S CHRISTMAS 235 

commanded the admiration of the whole town. 
Thursday afternoon, after the carpenters had fin- 
ished a big platform and grandstand, the lads 
erected timber shears and block and tackle and set 
the tree into place in the very center of the pa- 
vilion, which was to accommodate the mayor, 
town ofiicials, visitors, the orchestra and a host of 
school children who were to sing carols. 

“ Wow, it looks great,” said Nipper Knapp, sur- 
veying the tall fir proudly, “and won’t it look cork- 
ing after we get it all trimmed to-morrow after- 
noon?” 

“Yes, but mind you, fellows, we’ll have to work 
like everything to-morrow. All the wiring has to 
be strung and all the lights put on between one 
o’clock in the afternoon and half past four. It’ll 
be some job,” said Bud Weir. 

“You’re right it will,” said Bruce, “thank 
goodness we have everything shipshape up at 
headquarters to get a good start. There’s more 
than enough wire in the lot Mr. Ford sent over. 
And I guess we must have put on about three thou- 
sand lamp sockets during the last few days, 
haven’t we?” 


236 THE BOY SCOUT FIEE FIGHTEES 


“Two thousand and eighty-seven,” corrected 
Eomper, “and it’s a good thing school lets out at 
noon to-morrow.” 

“It’ll be a sight for sore eyes. Say, fellows. 
I’ll tell you what. Let’s bring old Nanny Haskell 
down and give her a seat on the visitors’ stand. 
I guess Mr. Ford could arrange that for us. It 
might cheer the poor old soul up a little. How 
is she to-day? Any one been up to the hospital?” 

“Sure, Eomper and I were up there. She’s all 
well and ready to leave, but the poor thing hasn’t 
any place to go to, it seems. She ’s bluer than all 
git out, too. Jiminy, but I feel sorry for her,” 
said Jiminy Gordon. 

“Well, then, by gollies! we’ll see if we can’t 
make her happy on Christmas Eve at least. We ’ll 
have her all bundled up and bring her down here. 
Listening to the kids sing and all the fun and 
things might help her spirit a little.” 

“Fine idea, if she’ll come,” said Bruce. 

“Oh, we’ll arrange that, all right, I think,” re- 
plied Eomper. “I’ll go up to the hospital to-mor- 
row. Perhaps Mr. Ford will go along, and we can 
talk it over with Doctor Bassett.” 


QUARRY TROOP’S CHRISTMAS 237 

‘ ‘ Good enough ; I ’ll go with you. And now let’s 
go home and get some supper, fellows. It’s get- 
ting dark,” said Bruce. And presently the scouts 
were tramping off through the snowy Winter twi- 
light to their respective homes. 

Fortunately, Mr. Clifford allowed Bruce the use 
of Blossom, his big black trotting horse, and a 
light box sleigh, or otherwise the lads would have 
had to make a dozen trips up the steep, snow-cov- 
ered Otter Hill to headquarters to get their coils 
of wire and boxes of lamps to town next day. 

As it was, the spirited animal had to haul three 
sleigh-loads of equipment to the Town Hall be- 
fore the scouts could even start the task of deco- 
rating. As soon as the coils of wire arrived a 
dozen scouts began to swarm the big Christmas 
tree, looping the wires from branch to branch and 
fastening them securely. Other scouts followed 
in their wake and screwed red, white and blue, 
green and yellow lamps into the vacant sockets. 
And while all this was going on, a crew of line- 
men and meter-setters from the local electric light 
company were running an extension, or service 
line, from the nearest street wires, for the electric 


238 THE BOY SCOUT FIRE FIGHTERS 


company had promised to furnish current free for 
the evening’s celebration. 

The square was a very busy place for several 
hours that afternoon, and every one was working 
with a will for he realized that he must be fin- 
ished before dusk came. By half past three, how- 
ever, the scouts found that they could ease up a 
little for, with the arrival of one more load of 
colored lamps from headquarters, the tree would 
be thoroughly decorated even to the shining elec- 
trically illuminated star on top which Jiminy Gor- 
don placed there with the help of an extra long 
ladder. 

“Whoope-e-e! almost through. Don’t it look 
fine, eh? And here comes Bruce with the last load 
of lamps. Come on, fellows, and help unload the 
sleigh,” shouted Bud Weir as Jiminy finally 
reached the ground after he had finished wiring 
the big star in place. 

“Right-o-o! and last man to the curb is no 
good,” shouted Nipper Knapp, starting to run. 
Next moment there was a scurry of scouts through 
the snow that covered the square and a pell-mell 
race to the curb where Bruce drew up the pant- 


QUAEEY TEOOP’S CHEISTMAS 239 

ing Blossom with a jingle of bells and a shower of 
powdery snow. 

“Whoa there, Blossom,” he shouted. Then 
to the scouts, “Come on, you duffers, and get these 
things unloaded. I want to get the horse into the 
stable so I can do some work, too.” 

The “duffers” arrived with a rush and in a 
twinkle the boxes were being removed from the 
sleigh in a manner quite violent, and this to the im- 
minent peril of the contents. 

“Hi, not so bloomin’ reckless,” shouted Bruce, 
“don’t smash ’em, whatever you do. They are 
the last colored lamps in town and we need ’em. 
And, say — listen — what’s the fuss up the street? 
Hear ’em shoutin’? Gee, it’s a runaway an’ here 
it comes — no — ^no — it’s going to turn down High 
Street toward the railroad — an’ — cracky! fellows, 
there’s a freight pulling out of the siding! See 
the smoke! And there’s a woman and a girl in 
the cutter! Wow! Look at those chumps up the 
street shoutin’ and wavin’ their arms. That’s no 
way to stop a horse ! Those women will be killed. 
Hi, Bud, hop in here. Come on, we’ve got to stop 
’em. I’m goin’ after ’em with Blossom. Geett/ap 


240 THE BOY SCOUT FIEE FIGHTERS 


there, Blossom. Git, now, that’s t’ girl. Go!” 

There could be no mistaking the fact that the 
horse and cutter coming down the street was a 
runaway. The big animal was almost mad with 
fright. His eyes bulged out until the whites 
showed and its nostrils were distended with fear. 
And, to make matters worse, there were a dozen 
men and boys shouting and waving their hands 
in a foolish effort to stop the horse. But all that 
they accomplished was to make the animal still 
more frightened. 

Fortunately, Bud’s mind acted as quickly as 
Bruce’s. He came into the sleigh with a bound, 
but almost before he landed Bruce had Blossom 
under way. Just a touch of the whip was all that 
was needed and the nervous trotter shot forward 
like a flash of lightning. A moment later she was 
a jet black streak flying toward the comer of High 
Street around which the runaway cutter had just 
disappeared. 

Almost in the wink of an eye Blossom reached 
the corner and swept around it at a gallop while 
the sleigh careened first on one runner and then 
upon the other, each time on the brink of turn- 


QUARRY TROOP’S CHRISTMAS 241 

ing over and pitching its occupants into the snow- 
banks that lined the road. But the scouts gave no 
heed to this. All their attention was on the fly- 
ing cutter a hundred yards ahead and upon the 
railroad crossing half a mile down the road. The 
freight train had left the siding, and at the mo- 
ment the scouts rounded the corner she was chug- 
ging her way slowly toward the crossing. Of 
course, the gates were down but this only added 
to the peril. The runaway horse was blind with 
fright. He would plunge into the gates, tear 
through them and probably kill himself and the 
women in the sleigh by dashing headlong into the 
freight train. 

“Go it, Bruce, go it. We must save them. 
They’ll be killed if we don’t,” cried the half fran- 
tic Bud. 

And Bruce, pale of face hut determined, cut 
Blossom with the whip to urge her forward. 
Rarely was the trotter treated that way and when 
the cut came she leapt forward like a deer. Then 
her racing instinct seemed to come back to her. 
She knew what was wanted. The horse ahead 
must be passed. She stretched her long legs to 


242 THE BOY SCOUT FIRE FIGHTERS 


their utmost and the pace she set made the light 
sleigh pitch and rock like a ship in a gale. Bruce 
never used the whip again. Indeed, he tossed it 
into the road, for he must needs use two hands to 
govern the flying horse. 

The animal ahead was flying, too, and it was 
a question for a few moments whether the scouts 
could make up the distance. But Blossom was 
at her best. Faster and faster she went while 
town folk stood on the sidewalk and gaped in 
amazement at the pace she held. The hundred- 
yard lead was cut down to fifty, now to forty, 
thirty-five, thirty. Bruce and Bud could see the 
look of terror on the faces of the girl and the 
woman in the cutter. Also they could see the rea- 
son for the accident. The reins had parted and 
one short length dangled over the horse’s side and 
slapped him continually on the ribs while the 
longer section dragged under the cutter. 

“We’ll make it. Bud, we’ll make it. We’ve got 
to make it. I’ll drive like mad. We’ll start to 
pass them and I’ll run Blossom as close as I dare 
and then when we get abreast of the horse you 
hang out upon the running-board, and jump for 


QUAREY TROOP’S CHRISTMAS 243 

the shafts of the cutter. Get astride the horse’s 
hack and grab those reins. Get ready, Bud ! Out 
on the running-board, now! Hurry!” cried 
Bruce. 

Blossom was drawing abreast of the cutter. 
Bud clung to the running-board and crouched for 
a spring. 

‘ ‘ Go it, Blossom, ’ ’ cried Bruce. ‘ ‘ Good old girl, 
go it. Go on, go on. Get ready. Bud — steady — 
ready now — jump!” 

Bud reached far out and leaped. One foot 
struck the shafts. He threw himself forward 
and grasped the runaway’s mane and in an in- 
stant he had swung himself astride the horse’s 
back. For a moment all that he could do was cling 
to the swaying animal. And when the horse felt 
the extra weight drop upon him he hounded for- 
ward like a stag, uttering a shrill whinny of fear. 

For a fleeting moment the lad thought of the 
peril of his position. But when he recalled that 
the lives of two women depended upon him, he 
became active. Reaching forward he grasped 
the broken line and the long one and forced the 
bit home into the horse’s mouth. The animal 


244 THE BOY SCOUT FIRE FIGHTERS 


snorted and plunged. Bud pulled back again. 
The runaway reared and pawed the air, snorting 
and shaking its massive head. “Whoa,” cried 
the scout, “whoa, boy, steady now,” and it seemed 
as if the animal recognized the authority in his 
command for the next time the lad reined in the 
panic-stricken horse slowed up and presently came 
to a complete standstill and stood trembling like 
a leaf. 

Then, when the scout looked up for the first 
time, there, not twenty yards away, was the rail- 
road crossing, with the freight train rumbling 
slowly by. 

“Fine work. Bud, fine,” cried Bruce, who had 
pulled in on Blossom the moment the scout had 
jumped from the sleigh. “Fine work, and — and 
— gee ! but it was a narrow escape.” 

Indeed it had been a narrow escape. Bud real- 
ized it as well as Bruce. And so did the woman 
and the little girl in the cutter, for their faces 
were white and they hardly had strength enough 
left to step from the cutter when Bruce tried to 
assist them. 

“Goodness me, what a day — ^what a day,” said 


QUAREY TROOP’S CHRISTMAS 245 

the woman, trembling with nervousness. And 
when the little girl heard this she began to cry. 

“Oh, mother, I’m unhappy, too,” she wept. 
“Poor Nanny, poor Nanny, just think she’s been 
burned to death, and all because you and father 
sent me to school last September. Oh, mother, 
mother, it’s terrible. And then the horse acting 
up like that. I — I — oh, Mr. — er — Mr. Boy Scout, 
do you know anything about old Nanny — Nanny 
Haskell? She was my dear nurse. Last Fall she 
left our house in St. Cloud because my father and 
mother sent me to school down in Boston. She — 
she — oh, dear! — she said she wouldn’t live in St. 
Cloud without me, because she would be too lone- 
some, so she came back to her old farm in the 
woods here, where she hadn’t been for ten years, 
and — now — oh, dear ! oh, dear ; — ^it burned down — 
and — Nanny must have been burned to death.” 

“Why — why — ^no — ^no, she wasn’t burned to 
death,” said Bruce, when he fully understood, 
“she — she — ^why she’s over in the Woodbridge 
hospital. That big building over there on Willow 
Street. We found her and took her there, and 
she wasn’t a bit hurt, only sick, that’s all.” 


246 THE BOY SCOUT FIEE FIGHTEES 


“What! is she alive — really— honest — Nanny 
Haskell — ^boy, you’re sure?” cried the woman ex- 
citedly. “We— we — came over to-day to get her 
and bring her back to St. Cloud. We wanted to 
tell her that Genevieve had come home from Bos- 
ton to stay, and that we wanted her to come back 
with us on Christmas Eve and live with us for 
good. Are you sure — ?” 

“Yes, yes, I’m sure. I helped bring her into 
town,” said Bruce. 

“Then come, mother, come. I must see old 
Nanny and cheer her up. The boys will take care 
of the horse and put him in a stable. Won’t you, 
boys?” said Genevieve, excitedly. 

“Sure — Bud will fix the reins and drive him to 
the hotel stable. Come into my sleigh and I’ll 
take you to the hospital,” said Bruce. 

A cold wind was driving powdery flakes out of 
the darkness overhead when the Woodbridge town 
folk began to gather in the square to celebrate 
their first community Christmas. The scouts 
were there early, for, besides the fact that several 
of them had the task of taking care of the electric 


QUAKRY TROOP’S CHRISTMAS 247 

switches that controlled the lights on the big tree, 
the rest of the troop had been delegated to police 
the square. 

The ceremonies were supposed to begin at eight 
o’clock, but by half-past seven the big platform 
was filled with visitors, officials and prominent 
townsmen. The orchestra had arrived, too, and 
taken its place, and the chorus of four hundred 
school children stood waiting, song books in hand. 
The big square was literally jammed by joyous 
men and women and shivering, though none the 
less enthusiastic, youngsters. And over these 
thousand or more silence reigned and every eye 
was fastened on the tall somber looking tree. 

Then came the signal from the Mayor. The 
next moment the orchestra leader swung his 
baton and the orchestra rang forth. Simultane- 
ously the voices of the children took up the open- 
ing bars of a good old English Christmas carol. 
This was the cue the four scouts at the switches 
were waiting for. One by one they jammed the 
tiny rubber covered connections home and in cir- 
cuits of eight and twelve, the colored lamps on the 


248 THE BOY SCOUT FIEE FIGHTEES 


great tree began to twinkle until it was a blaze 
of glory from the lowermost branches to the great 
glittering star on the top. 

What a wave of applause greeted this illumina- 
tion. Then some one in the throng took up the 
carol the children were singing and in a moment 
thousands of throats were pouring forth the hap- 
piness of Yuletide. The people’s enthusiasm 
seemed boundless. 

But though the lights of the great tree revealed 
joyous countenances everywhere, the scouts could 
single out three in the group on the platform that 
seemed far happier than the rest. In truth, tears 
of joy were coursing down old Nanny Haskell’s 
cheeks as she sat there hugging the form of Gene- 
vieve to her and listening to the rejoicing of the 
vast throng. And close beside them, her arm 
about the old nurse’s shoulder, sat a very happy 
mother. 

All through the ceremonies they stayed, linger- 
ing even till the lights on the big tree began to go 
out in groups. And when the star on the top, 
after a preliminary wink, went dark too, they 
turned and made their way slowly across the 


QUAEEY TEOOP’S CHEISTMAS 249 

square to where their cutter, a hired driver in the 
seat, stood waiting. 

“Well, fellows,” said Bruce, as with a jingle of 
bells the sleigh started in the direction of St. Cloud 
City, “I guess old Nanny’s Christmas won’t be 
such a sad one after all, thanks to Bud, here.” 

And then with boisterous shouts of “Merry 
Christmas, everybody,” the scouts all started for 
home. 


THE BOY SCOUT LIFE SERIES 


Published with the approval of 
The Boy Scouts of America 


In the boys’ world of story books, none 
better than those about boy scouts arrest 
and grip attention. In a most alluring way, 
the stories in the BOY SCOUT LIFE 
SERIES tell of the glorious good times and 
wonderful adventures of boy scouts. 

All the books were written by authors 
possessed of an intimate knowledge of this 
greatest of all movements organized for the 
welfare of boys, and are published with the 
approval of the National Headquarters of the Boy Scouts 
of America. 

The Chief Scout Librarian, Mr. F. K. Mathiews, writes 
concerning them: *Tt is a bully bunch of books. I hope 
you will sell 100,000 copies of each one, for these stories are 
the sort that help instead of hurt our movement.” 



THE BOY SCOUT FIRE FIGHTERS— 

THE BOY SCOUTS OF THE LIGHTHOUSE TROOP— 
MCLANB 

THE BOY SCOUT TRAIL BLAZERS— 

THE BOY SCOUT TREASURE HUNTERS— 

(Other volumes in preparation) 

I2mo,, Cloth, Illustrated, Per roL 75 ceuts postpaid 

For sale at all bookstores or sent (postage paid) on receipt of price by 
the publishers. 

705 ‘ 

EARSE & HOPKINS 

Publishers 28 West 23rd Street New York 




















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